Verite au Vie Redux
by Brian Conley
Summary: A young Mithran girl gets caught up in the flow of the fate of the world. Redux Progress: Chapter Six? Yes, I'm alive.
1. Prologue

**Verité au Vie **

By Brian Conley

**Prologue **_Shattered

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"_I will not die_!"

Islia screamed her will to live at the top of her lungs as she sprung forward off of her left foot at the draconic monster crashing towards her. It was scaled and clawed and it stood as a roaring monolith with a taken life. It's head was smooth, accented with flat ears and two flaring nostrils beneath its sunken shiny eyes. It swung a fist of knives towards Islia and she skipped to the side to avoid it. Sweat stung her eyes, her teeth hurt from the pressure. She attacked, driving her sword forward, digging deep into the beast's side, flicking off scales and splashing blood. A terrible roar escaped and the dragon turned violently, ripping the sword from Islia's hands and knocking her to the ground. She lost her breath and rolled to her left to evade the claws of the beast coming down but didn't roll fast enough and the claws raked across her side, leaving bloody lines in her skin. Islia clambered to her feet as fast as she could, clutching the scraps of steel and cloth that exposed ragged wounds on beneath her ribs. Once she was upright again, she shook her head clear and ducked away from the dragon's next blinding attacks. Her sword caught the sun as it stuck between scales and Islia skidded to a halt and switched directions quickly, fast enough to float under the monster's arms and dive at the grip of her sword. She grabbed it mid-air and tore it up and out as she landed, promoting a sonic howl from the beast. She ran forward, about twenty feet, and skipped off her toes to turn around to put her eyes again on her foe, stretching the wounds as she did, sending shocks of pain through her. The beast growled lightly, purring almost, and stomped around to face Islia.

She thought her sister's name and took off in a run that pressured every muscle in her young body, taking long strides to move as fast as she could. The dragon roared again, now a battle call, and lunged, covering enough ground to claw at Islia in one jump. It drilled its claws forward, turning them into an army of swords against Islia's tiny blade. She slid to a stop and used the worn muscles in her arms to keep her sword steady underneath the constant push of the beast's claws. She clenched her teeth so tight that amidst the horror and fear, she worried that they might shatter. She gripped the sword so hard her knuckles felt like they were going to pop. She looked up and caught the gaze of the dragon's sapphire eyes, looking at her with anger and malice, but beneath it, and maybe it was just Islia's last strings of hope, but for a second, they shifted to the delicate ocean eyes of her sister and she faltered.

The sword shattered and pierced through Islia's torso, shredding her flesh and pulsing blood out of her mouth and body. Islia opened her mouth to scream but only felt numbness blanket her body and the warmth of blood sift from her lips. The beast lifted her up and whipped her to the ground. When she hit she felt almost nothing, no pain, no fear, _nothing_. She only felt her mind disconnecting, falling away from her slain corpse, sinking into oblivion.

She saw her family, just a quick flash of a memory. She saw a blink of her caring mother, her bearded father and her two sisters, The younger one holding the elder's hand.

Her mind was a fading tornado and only two butterflies escaped to cognitive thought.

"_I'm sorry." _

They was her last thoughts, directed to the family she imagined briefly once more before falling into her forever sleep.


	2. Life

**Verité au Vie**

By Brian Conley

**One **_Life

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_

It was already late afternoon when Wyli got to the coast and the sun had already started its lazy descent, burning the land and sea in a golden glow. Wyli walked leisurely, taking her time to smile at the rows of flowers planted along the edges of the well-groomed path and to take in the myriad of scents they gave off. She walked with her arms swinging at her side and her tail bobbing to the beat of her footsteps. A drop of sweat slid down her forehead and into her left eye. She scowled it away, quickly using the back of her left arm to rub the rest of the sweat from her slick brow. It was six something in the afternoon, but the air was still balmy and thick with heat, wrapping whoever dared to venture into it in its warmth. Wyli had done all she could to try and stay cool, such as wearing a super-skimpy top and not-so-skimpy-but-still-short shorts, but to no avail. Her yellow hair was tied up into two ponytails and had her green headband holding her bangs up, but it didn't help. As she walked she kept her mind focused on her destination, it made it easier to endure the Kazham heat.

The path ahead of her sloped down, stretching out to the beach that was at the end of the hilled road. Wyli grinned at the orange ocean ahead of her and she felt her second wind lift her feet faster, despite not having quite gone through her first wind yet. She stepped up her pace and her tail straightened to accommodate her new speed. As she jogged, she felt a new wave of sweat start to moisten her tanned skin, but she ignored it, knowing the fresh ocean water would cool it, if the soft winds didn't first. When she reached the sand of the beach, she kicked off her sandals and then unclasped the strap of her bag. From inside, she pulled out two pink roses she had carefully stashed, wrapped loosely in thin rabbit hide. She dropped the bag and hides to the ground and ran to the lapping waves, carefully holding the roses with the tips of her fingers to avoid thorns. She waded thigh-high in the bobbing water and then slowly sank to sit on her knees. The water rose up to right above her stomach and instantly chilled the sweat that had pooled on it. Wyli shivered a bit then took a deep breath. She placed the roses on the water. They floated peacefully for a few seconds then started rolling out with the tides. Wyli watched them go until they were out of her reach and then closed her eyes and lowered her head.

"I'm sorry I haven't come to talk in a while." She said, "But Mama's been keeping me busy at the store, you know? Also, the Chieftain's training schedule is so rigid…"

She chuckled, "But I'm sure you two know all about that."

The roses had sunken when Wyli looked up at them. She sighed and lowered her head again.

"Everyone at home is doing well. Mama is in good health, as are the neighbors. The store is doing well too: business is booming this time of year, when everybody wants to vacation in Norg. Foolish, really, it's a dangerous road and, well…you know."

She relaxed her brow and puffed out her cheeks, unsure what else there was to tell them. She hadn't visited in such a while, two weeks at least, and during the entire walk here, she thought that a lot had happened in that time. Thinking about it now though, she realized how much _nothing _actually occurred…how everything's been pretty much the same.

"I miss you." She said, her rosy lips falling into a curved frown, "There's nothing new here, Mama is still Mama, Kazham is still hot and…and I still miss you. You may not know this, but I remember you two perfectly…the way you acted, the way you talked…ten years of separation didn't make me forget. A _million _years won't make me forget."

Wyli scooped some water with cupped hands and watched it slowly trickle out between her fingers. The sound was like a waterfall in the silence. One lone rogue tear found its way down her cheek and she took a deep breath, putting her wet hands to her face to wash it away. With her cheeks cooled, she put her hands back in the water and lowered them to touch the bottom, slumping her head down and putting her bangs across her eyes. Slowly she took a big breath and submerged her head, getting the salty water in her nose, ears and mouth. She opened her eyes and saw the wavy hues of the sea, the brackish water stinging her eyes. All around her, the only thing she could hear was the slow movement of the water and the occasional fluttering of a passing fish. Everything moved like it was in slow motion. Wyli's breath had run out and her lungs started to burn in need of fresh air. She ignored them best she could as she let her arms and head go deeper, aiming for the soft sand below. She wondered, her thoughts cast as a monotone whisper in the darkness of her mind, was this was death was like? A somber thought, no doubt, but one perhaps necessary for her seaside visits.

"I'm sorry."

A voice spoke and rang crystalline to Wyli's ears, cutting through the murk of the water. Out of surprise, she shot back to her knees, exploding the water around her and taking a gasping breath as she did. Panting just slightly, she splashed around to look behind her, seeing nobody there. Confused, she stood up and looked around further, taking a single step in every direction to see if she could spot the owner of the voice powerful enough to ignore water. When she saw that the beach was indeed void of everyone except her, she clenched her fists and bit her bottom lip, her brow scrunched into worried wrinkles. A cool wind picked up and blew across Wyli. She shivered and hugged herself, wondering where the breeze came from: the heat hadn't subsided at all while she was here. She sighed and looked down at the small waves slapping against her thighs.

"Well, I'd better go home." She said, "Mama won't like it if I get sick." She nodded once and took a few steps before stopping.

"I'll try and visit again soon, ok? I promise. I love you."

She took a deep breath and waded out of the water, heading to get her satchel and sandals.

* * *

By the time Wyli got back to the village the sun had vanished for the night and the chalky moon had already started to sweep the star-speckled twilight sky. It wasn't completely dark out, the sky was a wonderful clematis purple hue, but the lanterns had been lit and everyone was inside their homes, the lights of fireplaces illuminating every window. Wyli walked with her hands intertwined behind her back, taking slow steps. She felt her tail droop and she sympathized with it; she was thoroughly tired. Before taking the hour excursion to her sisters' seaside memorial, she had put in an eight hour shift at her family's store and before that she had been with the Chieftain for three hours—all in all, she'd been up since the crack of dawn. Taking her time, she made her way over the wooden walkway paths to her house: a two-story dwelling with the living spaces upstairs and the family store downstairs. Wyli smiled as she stepped up onto the familiar porch, glad to be home.

"Mama?" She said as she stepped inside. She closed and locked the door behind her and made sure the latch clicked into place before turning to look around. The store was just as neat and well-kempt as it was when she left. The store's counter stretched from wall to wall, sitting about ten feet from the door, it's surface smooth and shiny with whatever her mother used to clean it. Wyli walked to the end of the counter and lifted the hinged opening. She slipped through and, still looking around at the headed for the staircase in back. She climbed the curving stairs and opened the door at the top, walking deftly into a wall of wafting scents, most of them strong enough to instantly water Wyli's mouth. She took a breath to enjoy it further and headed for the kitchen, making a quick pit stop along the way to drop off her satchel and sandals in the doorway to her room.

She entered the kitchen to a pleasant surprise of a large pile of freshly cooked kabobs in the center of the table, surrounded by a few shallow saucers of red Windurstian Rarab sauce. The entire ensemble filled the kitchen with its delicious odor; a smell that Wyli couldn't resist but be drawn to.

"Welcome home."

Wyli looked away from the table to see her mother at the far counter, pouring some drinks into tall iced glasses. She was still in her work outfit, some green apron, and had her hair confined with a lacquered pin. Wyli took this as fact that the store was only recently closed and that it had been a busy end-of-day for her mother. A stab of guilt took action and Wyli grit her teeth just slightly as she made for the table.

"What's all this?" Wyli asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

Her mother picked up the two glasses and placed them at the table. She sat across from Wyli and grabbed the underside of her chair, pulling herself closer before talking.

"It's been a long day." She said, casually filling her plate with kabobs.

"It has." Wyli condoned, carefully taking a steaming kabob with the tips of her fingertips and rolling it in one of the bowls of sauce.

"I hope you didn't miss me while I was there." She said, pulling off the top piece of juicy, tender meat with her teeth. Her mother's cooking was _fantastic_, almost godly. Wyli had always suggested that she convert the store to a restaurant, but to no avail…'too much trouble', her mother called the idea.

"No, no." Her mother said, "Things were slow."

"That's good to hear."

There was quiet for a minute and then her mother spoke up after she finished her kabob.

"How are your sisters?" She asked, putting the slightest stitch of sadness into her voice; something Wyli was sure wasn't intentional.

"Good." Wyli responded. She searched perhaps for something else to say, some new piece of information, but as usual, there wasn't one. Nothing was new, it was all still the same. A road traveled so much that all the sights and sounds could be repeated verbatim, though Wyli chose to often not do such a thing. Her Mama took such conversations seriously and Wyli disliked, as any good child would she supposed, upsetting her mother.

Wyli reached for another kabob, "It's okay, Mama. Let's not talk about it."

Her mother nodded and after a few pregnant moments, she narrowed her eyes and leaned forward, "But I _will_ talk about how little you're wearing."

Wyli rolled her eyes and put her free hand on her bare belly, "Mama, it's not like I'm the only one who dresses like this. Besides, you know I don't do it all the time. It was just hot out."

"I know." Her mother smiled, "You're a good girl like that, unlike the others your age on this island, prancing about nearly naked."

"It's even more aggravating now." Wyli said, snapping the strap to her bikini, "This top is wet and it's gotten a little smaller."

"You got _wet_? Oh, Wyli…you'd best get into a-"

"Bath, I know. I plan to."

Her mother laughed, "Good, and don't finish my sentences."

Wyli chuckled. The meal played out with a pleasant silence, broken only by words of either kindness or talk of the island around them.

* * *

"I'm going to bed, Wyli. After your bath make sure all the lights are out."

Wyli waved to her mother from the bathroom doorframe, "Ok, G'night Mama."

Her mother closed herself into her room and Wyli took a deep breath before heading into the bathroom, her change of clothes held under one arm. She shut the door behind her and went to turn start the bath. She dropped her change of clothes on the small chair next to the claw-footed San d'Orian bathtub and ducked down to a squat. She reached her hand into the brick square under the tub and tapped the fire crystal inside of it, feeling the heat it produced immediately. The first crystal activated the second crystal and so on, until all six fire crystals in the heating cube were on and warming the tub of cooled water. Wyli stood up and, much to her relief, peeled off her tight top and soaked-and-itchy shorts. She stood in the buff for a few minutes, thinking of her mother as she was caught in the silence. She thought of how caring she was, hold strong she was to raise three daughter and then lose two of them. Wyli was amazed at how well she had come to terms with half her family dying, already alongside the loss of her father.

The way the Mithran race was, males were the recessive of the gender genes: a Mithran male being born was a bi-yearly thing, at best. That being so, that male has to be treated like gold to make sure the Mithran race continued to thrive. Each male grew up and at age twenty-something, goes at it with a group of selected females. Each female has twins at least, mostly it's triplets or quadruplets. The human, Taru or Elvaan bodies couldn't handle such strenuous births, but that was the Mithran specialty. Wyli's sisters were fathered by a Mithran male twenty-five years ago and then after they died, the same Male came back to father Wyli. She was a single birth, something that rarely happened, so she always was treated a little better then most. As the water in the tub began to steam, Wyli stuck her tongue out at the thought of having kids to a father that wouldn't even stick around to watch them grow. She wondered, if they didn't stay, where did they go? She scrunched her mouth in curiosity and thought about it while she slipped into the misty water of the tub. It felt great against her sandy, salty skin—it was nice to wash away the day.

"I bet they all jump into the Cauldron." She thought aloud.

She laughed at the image of a line of Mithran males leaping to their deaths one-by-one at the edge of the Yhotor Volcano. Chuckling, she sat up in the tub and leaned out, over the side, and hit the brick-heating box hard with the her palm to shake the fire crystals and roll them apart from each other, reducing the heat. She fell back into the tub and sank down so the waterline was right beneath her nose. She closed her eyes and let all the concerns of the day seep from her worn body into the cloudy water. She let her ears droop on top of her head and exhaled out of her mouth, bubbles popping quietly on the surface of the water.

Thoughts of her mother and the Mithran way of life still floated around in her head. She had never longed for a father; she really didn't even know what a father _was _until she was almost six and she had seen a vacationing Hume family on the boat from Jueno and even after that she really didn't care that she didn't have one. Maybe that was how the Mithran culture persevered so long as a female society: they lived in isolation. Kazham was a nearly one-hundred percent Mithran island and Windurst was about eighty. Wyli raised her brow as she thought that growing up with a village of other fatherless people is an easy way to abolish the concept of 'fathers'.

_So why so few males, then? _She thought.

It was another question that irritated her. Was it an evolution thing? Or magical, maybe? Could it be that some ancient Mithrans used some equally ancient magic to _somehow _make males near-extinct in their species? Wyli smirked and laughed, leaning her head back to against the rounded metal tub. It was such a foolish sounding idea to her; using magic to get rid of men. Why would anyone use magic for such a purpose and even more, _was _there a magic that could do something like that? Wyli hadn't any hands-on experience with magic per se, but she had read all about it (the Chieftain always says 'Knowledge is what should propel the swing of your sword'). She had read about magic to cure wounds, to revive the dead and even magic to slow down one's flow of time. With all that magic could do, why _not _have a genocidal spell somewhere in the world?

Wyli huffed. She was starting to get tired of over thinking such a subject. Sure, the whole 'no fathers' thing warranted further thought, but the warmed water that Wyli was soaking in had slowly made her relax and now the want to just space out reigned high. She closed her eyes and sunk a little deeper in the water, one of her hands reaching up to grab at the bar of new soap that lay on a small shelf above the tub. She was relaxing, yes, but she also needed to wash.

_This Mithran culture is so confusing. _She thought before starting to scrub at her skin.

After taking her time washing and relaxing, Wyli got out of the tub, pulled the plug, then changed into her pajamas. Yawning casually, she walked out of the bathroom and to the kitchen to put the tin damper on the flickering flame, efficiently extinguishing it. Now in darkness, she put her arms out in front of her to feel her way carefully back out to the equally dark hallway and finally to her room, where a lone candle made an orb of light against the walls.

_Tomorrow is another day. _She thought and used her middle finger and thumb to flick out the candle's flame. She stood in the darkness for a little while, her eyes closed, ears and tail drooped.

"Islia, Mhical…" She whispered in a silent prayer, following her nightly ritual. She wasn't sure what God she was praying to, she wasn't even sure what God there _was _to worship to, but she prayed anyway…just to talk to her sisters.

"I love you two. Goodnight."

She took a deep breath and took the four steps to her bed and collapsed onto it, not bothering to tuck under the sheets. Her head hit the pillow and the question of fathers came back into her mind, but this time in a question: did her sisters know their father, despite Mithran tradition?

"If only you were here." She said and drifted to sleep, the insect orchestra of the balmy Kazham night pulling her to sleep like a natural lullaby.


	3. Reverie

**Verité au Vie**

By Brian Conley

**Two **_Reverie_

Wyli woke up on a surface of stone; grey granite shaped into a square platform. Alarmed, she shot to her feet and swung her head around in a panic, seeing nothing but stretching, endless black around her. She panicked and put her hands on the side of her head, but then her mind clicked on, reminding her that she was dreaming. She calmed down and looked at her hands, her vision fuzzy and her mind muddled. Moving slowly, she leaned forward and looked down over the side of the stone square she was on and found out that it was the top of a pillar that tracked down straight forever into the abyss that surrounded Wyli. A cold, bitter wind suddenly gusted by and Wyli hugged herself to try and protect herself from the frost. What she hugged was something metal, not the cloth she'd fallen asleep in, and she looked down to see she was in a suit of blue armor, gold engravings tracing the edges and ornate designs. She furrowed her brow and clenched her fists, hot tears pouring down her cheeks.

"Don't cry." A familiar voice said and within the blink of an eye, her sister appeared in front of her, floating freely over the blackness, a similar suit of blue armor adorning her body. A rush of emotion coursed through Wyli's body and she reached a gloved hand up to caress her cheek.

"Islia." She said, her only word striking clearer then any noise she'd ever heard. Islia reached up and put her hand over her sister's. She closed her eyes and embraced the touch and then sighed as she let go of it, pushing it back towards Wyli. Islia lowered her head and turned to leave. Wyli yelled a protest, but no sound came out of her strained throat.

"Don't worry." Another voice said and a hand came down onto Wyli's shoulder, She spun around and saw her other sister smiling, her eye glimmering blue. She leaned forward to embrace Wyli then backed off, her face of joy shifted to a serious frown.

"Listen." She said, her voice cloudy, ripples of a echo floating through it, "You'll find her, we're sure.." She smiled again and returned to the embrace.

"Mhical." Wyli said, "Islia?"

"She's afraid." Mhical said and back off, turning to leave. Wyli felt the tears start to pour down her cheeks again and she collapsed to her knees, veiling her face with her hands and crying until she couldn't feel the tears anymore. She moved her hands from her face and saw that the grey square she was on start to dissipate. She jumped to her feet and reached both hands up into the air, trying desperately to save herself.

A light appeared far, far above her. It was so far up it looked like a jewel, a diamond a million miles away.

The platform vanished and Wyli fell, falling farther and father away from the light until she was enveloped in blackness and dragged to unconsciousness, hopes that this dream would end rolling through her hazy thoughts.


	4. Lost Pilgrim

**Verité au Vie**

By Brian Conley

**Three** _Lost Pilgrim  


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Wyli woke with her eyes burning, cheeks wet and her throat rough. Moving slowly to accommodate these conditions, she sat up and used the back of her hand to wipe at her eyes and to try and clean her cheeks. She looked down at the shiny streaks on her hands for a fleeting second then closed her eyes, recalling the dream that had forced her to sob in her slumber. She had had dreams before, of course: everybody did, but she never had remembered them as well as she did this one. It was like a memory now, something that she had _lived _and not just fabricated. When she opened her eyes, she saw that the morning sun was in the sky just above her window, so its light was shaped like a square over her lap and onto the floor. She looked at it for a few minutes then lowered her head to look at her hands on her lap. She stared at them with squinted eyes, taking shallow breaths, trying to understand the fog in her thoughts that her dream had spread.

"Come _on_, Wyli." She muttered.

She forced herself to accept her words, even though she didn't really believe them. She closed her eyes and was about to fall back to her pillow when a quick series of knocks came from her door. She rolled her head to look in their direction and when they rang again, she clambered out of bed, the wooden floor already warm from the heat outside. She wearily made her way to the door and opened it, using her left index finger to wipe some sleep out of her eyes. Standing on the other side was her mother, dressed in her apron and wearing a tight-lipped scowl on her face.

"C'mon, sleepy-tail. Time to get dressed and going. It's Firesday, remember?"

Wyli let out a long sigh. Firesday was the order day for the store—a day where Wyli would have to garb herself in warmer clothes and take the airship to Jueno so she could stand in a line and confirm a ten-minute transaction. The whole ordeal took the better part of the day and Wyli felt like having no part of it and just wanted to get back to her bed.

"Mama…" She said, slumping her shoulders and lowering her voice in an attempt to siphon what sympathy she could, "I didn't sleep very well last night and I don't feel good. Do I have to-"

Before she could finish her sentence, her mother's hand was up and pressing to her brow. She huffed and moved her hand from her forehead to rustle through her hair.

"You feel fine, Wyli. You look tired, yes, but you're fine. Now get dressed, and remember: warmly."

Wyli drooped her head in defeat, "I know, Mama."

"Good girl." Her mother smiled and patted Wyli's cheek. She moved her hand back and cocked her head, her smile fading quickly into a concerned frown.

"Were you crying?" She asked.

Wyli looked up, "Um…in my sleep, I think." She bit her lip, a little embarrassed that her mother was able to so easily spot her tears.

"Why?"

"I had a bad dream, that's all." Wyli smiled, "I have to get dressed, Mama."

Her mother looked at her for a minute more then turned to go downstairs, "Alright. Come downstairs when you're ready."

"Yes, Mama."

Her mother walked off and she closed the door, wondering if the sad feeling she was drowning in would go away soon, if at all. She ran her hand through her hair and shook her head, turning to go get dressed.

* * *

For any trip off-island, Wyli always brought along her fluffy chocobo-down coat, long pants and a book, most usually something off of the Chieftain's bookshelf. Last Firesday it was _The Evolution of Steel: a history of the Bastok culture, _a thick book that she had thought would be interesting, she enjoyed learning of other cultures and she liked Bastok, but in the end she couldn't take reading about its however many year history written out in itty-bitty print and had fallen asleep on both the trip to and from Jueno. This current Firesday, however, she chose something lighter…this pleased her and brought a little light onto her melancholy. As she boarded the airship she flashed her Kazham pass to the checker near the entry hatch and gripped the thick book beneath her arm tighter, careful as not to lose her grip on it as she did. The book was her all-time favorite, a collection of Mithran fairy tales, well over a hundred of them, written by the last twelve generations of Kazham Mithras and put into print only a few years prior by some ambitious Windurstian publishers anxious to get the previously-spoken-word tales out to Vana'diel. She had the book memorized but that didn't stop her from enjoying it.

Putting on a polite smile as she wove through the small crowds on the top deck of the airship, she held the book tight, glad that at least she wouldn't be _put to sleep _this time to Jueno. She made her way to her favorite spot on the ship: sitting right beneath the bridge, where she could see everyone standing out on the open deck and the sky yawn above her. She sat down with an _oomph _and shifted around to get comfortable on the varnished-shiny wood. With no further hesitation, she flipped the book open, not to anyplace in particular and read a few lines before, much to her dismay, her thoughts began to wander back to what she'd been trying to work away from since she'd woken up. Her sister's faces flashed through her mind and she sighed, wishing (for maybe the first time in her life) that they wouldn't. When she had left her house, just about a hour ago, to go meet the airship she was on, she willed herself _not _to think about the dream and she was doing pretty good at it until now…until she opened her favorite book. She closed her eyes and placed the book on her lap so she could rub at her face with both hands.

She told herself again that it was just a dream, like she had told herself countless times since the event. She had had dreams about her sisters before and none of them struck her quite as badly as this one did, and she wanted to know _why_. Was it because she could remember the dream so perfectly? Or was it because what her sisters said in the dream was just a bunch of cryptic warnings and greetings? Whatever the reason, she couldn't shake it or the melancholy that accompanied it. With another huff she moved her hands and put them on her open book and looked up at the sky above. She smiled, comparing it to a painting: a smooth wipe of grey clouds splashed across the sky like a watercolor painting, a few jagged circles of sapphire blue poking through. She cocked her head and thought about how little she actually _looked _at the sky…if it weren't for her airship rides, she would never actually take the time to gaze at it.

"_You'll find her, we're sure…"_ Her sister's voice said in her thoughts. It was such a cryptic statement…like an order to do something that she didn't know anything about. Also, in the dream Islia was emanating sorrow, strong enough to feel in her very soul. It made sense: seeing her deceased sister after well over ten years would bring out such strong emotion in _anyone_. Wyli slumped her shoulders and relaxed her eyes. She couldn't get a good hold on what this dream meant. Everything she remembered about it was perfectly clear but it was still confusing: she somewhat equated it with reading about Windurstian Crystal Enchantment Theorem written in old Taru language (which she knew but was a pain to read) in her free time at the Chieftain's, in the sense that she knew what she was reading, but couldn't make heads or tails of it. There was also the area where she was in the dream: a forever blackness, standing precariously on some kind of stone platform and after her sisters left, there was a light above her, shining bright like a star, millions of miles away…it was something (like everything else) that _felt _like she should know what it meant, but didn't. She groaned and faltered her head in aggravation. Nothing about this silly dream was making sense to her and thinking about it made the confusion worse.

She sat up straight, shifting to look at the deck and the few people peppered around. There was a pair of Elvaan standing near the left rail, a lone Taru black mage a couple of feet from them. She smiled at them, sighed and leaned backwards, deciding to just put her mind to wandering (she knew what it would wander to, but she did let it anyway) and allow the ship's slight rocking to lull her into a light sleep.

The airship docked in Lower Jueno, one level below where Wyli needed to be. As she stepped out from arrivals, she tucked her book under her left arm and stuffed her hands into her pockets to hold it in place. She kept her chin tucked into her collar as she walked, the air was chilly to her and she didn't want it stinging at her cheeks. She was so used to Kazham's balmy breezes that this mainland climate was bitterly unusual to her; and the cloudy cover didn't help one bit.

The city of Jueno was built very beautifully, Wyli thought. She loved the way the buildings were tucked together wall-to-wall, white trims of stone lining each door and window and each triangle roof. Every time Wyli came to Jueno she liked walking the streets (despite how much of a chore the errand she was sent to do was). Each street was a simple row, going straight down, houses lining each side, soft glowing lanterns peppering the walk. Wyli walked down the road and into the stairwell hub at the end and swung left to start up to Upper Jueno so she could get to her appointment at the auction house. Smiling politely she excused herself past a white-clad armored Elvaan and started up the stairs, walking quickly as not to be a roadblock in the narrow passage. When she got to Upper Jueno, she was pleased to see that there weren't that many people around; a nice surprise considering most Firesdays the city was teeming with noisy crowds.

Wyli looked up at the grey sky and wondered if that was the cause…maybe the citizens didn't like dreary days. Or maybe because it was early in the morning (about eleven)…whatever the reason, it made things easier for Wyli. She walked out into the street and upped her pace a bit, suddenly feeling a little better and wanting to take in the smells and air of the city.

As she walked, she looked around her: there were a few humans chatting loudly as they sat at a café table, sipping at something in white mugs, heavy-set Galka looking over weapons and laughing and a Elvaan family sitting on the wide lip of a big fountain, talking and eating some kind of red pastry. Wyli liked this kind of place, this kind of society: one where every one was at peace and could live hand-in-hand, despite race. Kazham was nice, but aside from the adventurers and Norg inhabitants, it was exclusively Mithran. Wyli shivered and turned a corner, going along her familiar path to the interior of the Auction House. Somebody was on the other side of the turn and Wyli ran into the tiny body roughly, stumbling both of them in staggered steps.

"Oh, excuse me!" Wyli said, getting flat on her feet. She saw nothing ahead of her and curiously looked down to see a small Mithran girl, no older then ten, standing with her back against the wall, rubbing her shoulder. Her eyes were looking down at the ground and she wore yellow ankle-long dress, slim, flat straps holding it onto her thin shoulders. Her russet hair was smooth on her head around her drooping ears, falling down to her tan-skinned cheeks. Wyli reached out an arm and put it on her shoulder.

"Are you ok?" She asked, bending at her waist to try to make eye contact. The girl turned her head up to look at her with cool grey eyes; eyes that were flush with worry.

The girl said nothing, only put her hand on Wyli's to politely move it from her shoulder. Wyli wrinkled her brow.

"Are youok?" She asked again, putting a happier note into her words. The girl stared at her for a few seconds more, blinked a few times and then turned on her heel and ran off, dashing around a far corner. Wyli got to her feet and quickly followed her, taking tall strides only to lose sight of the child as she turned the corner she had seen her vanish around.

"Where did she go?" Wyli asked herself then started to go look for her, but soon remembered the Auction House and with one more worried look towards the streets, she left to go finish her errand.

* * *

The line at the Auction House interior long enough to string outside and the wait in it as it shortened to the counter was a solid hour, much too long for Wyli's tiny span of attention. With a frump on her face, she ruffled her order paper out of her pocket and handed it to the attendee.

"Phiara." She said the human girl behind the counter, "The order is to the Adventure's Store in Kazham."

"Name?"

"Wyli Phiara. My mother is Khua Phiara."

The girl put the slip down and took out an inkwell and feather pen to jot down her signature on it. She slid it to her side to dry and looked up at Wyli.

"You're all set, Miss Phiara. The order total is thirteen hundred Gil. Will you be paying today?"

"No, we'll pay when it's delivered."

"Ok, thank you for your patronage."

Wyli said thank you to the girl and headed off, glad to be done with the exact same routine she had done for the last however-many years. All she had to do now was catch her ship and head home…home to pull her shift at the store then Firesday weapon training with the Chieftain. She hung her head and wondered when exactly her life had become so tiring.

She left the Auction House and outside the sky had gotten darker: so dark that the street lamps had been lit. She licked her lips a bit out of nervousness and then took a quick pace to try and make it to the airship terminal before the rain set. It seemed the sky read her thoughts and roared malevolent with thunder. She grit her teeth and started running, her sandals tapping loudly off the cobblestone streets. She looked around as she ran and saw that she was the only one around, everyone else must have thought ahead and taken shelter. As she moved she could _smell _the damp smell of rain in the already thick air. As she rounded the corner to head back to the street that would lead her to the stairwell hub the raindrops increased, going from a light patter to a thick curtain within seconds. Wyli cursed silently as she felt the wash of water run down her back and soak her hair, coat and legs, her sandaled feet freezing.

She was almost there when some motion caught her eye from her left. She didn't want to stop to investigate but she did, her body almost forcing her to do so. She turned and looked at the big fountain to see the little girl she had ran into before standing with her back to her, her yellow dress clinging wetly to her soaking skin.

"Hey." Wyli said, "Aren't you cold?"

The girl's ears perked up straight. She turned slowly to look at Wyli, who had her arms wrapped around her chest. As she did the bottom hem of her dress spun with her; a crystal rain elegantly falling from the fabric in a dance of water. She turned like she was moving in slow motion and her grey eyes glittered from the rain as she looked to Wyli. She cocked her head a little to the left and clenched her hands into fists.

"What isthis?" She asked as her thin lips formed into a frown.

"What is what?" Wyli asked.

One of the girl's slender arms pointed up at the sky, "What's happening?"

Wyli followed with her eyes and quickly realized what she was talking about.

"It…it's _rain_." She explained, trying to mask the confusion in her voice with a tone of kindness.

"Rain?" The girl enunciated the word like a toddler saying it for the first time. She held her hands up with her palms flat and let the rain patter off of them, the water running down her arms and onto her face. She blinked rapidly as the rainwater dripped into them.

"What is this feeling?" The girl asked, closing her eyes, allowing the water to slide down over her eyelids and stream down her cheeks. Wyli bit her bottom lip and walked over to stand in front of the girl, almost toe-to-toe.

"What feeling?" She asked.

The girl lowered her arms and wrapped them around her chest. Her face shifted to discomfort and Wyli saw goose bumps roll down her exposed arm, answering her question.

"You're _cold_." Wyli explained, starting to unbutton her coat.

"Cold?"

Wyli frowned as she took off her coat and hung it over the shoulders of the girl. She felt sorry for her, but she also felt some disbelief: could this child really not know about rain or being cold?

"We need to get you inside." Wyli said and leaned down to put her hand on the child's back and patted her slightly, to direct her to follow. The girl took a cautious step then looked up at Wyli.

"Who are you?" She asked, grabbing the corners of the coat's collar and pulling it close.

"My name is Wyli."

The girl wrinkled her brow and looked down at her feet.

"Wyli?"

"That's right." Wyli smiled and looked around, quickly spotting a open café down the street a little ways. She didn't know this girl, but she did feel bad for her, alone in the rain and so clueless. She couldn't just walk away…the least she could do was warm her up; stay with her until the rain ended.

"Come on." She said pushing the girl gently, "Let's go."

The girl didn't respond as they started walking.

The café was one Wyli had been to before, with her family. It was set in a twenty by twenty foot room, the floors polished hardwood and the walls and ceiling red clay. It was a quiet place and (as far as Wyli knew) was never really crowded. As she and the girl entered their footsteps were the only noise in the place. The only other person was a human waiter who was leaning up against a wall reading a book as they walked in. He looked up at them and quickly catered a pair of towels and two mugs of piping hot chocolate (and hung up Wyli's wet coat). Wyli thanked him and paid with the little Gil her mother had provided to her for the supply run (_around-town _money, her mother called it). They sat down at a table in the corner of the cozy-warm café in the comfy leather-padded, wire-framed seats. Before sitting though, Wyli had helped the girl remove her big coat and dried her off with the white cotton towel.

"What is this?" The girl asked when she sat, looking at the white mug in front of her.

"It's Coco." Wyli said, "It's hot, so be careful when you drink it."

The girl looked up at Wyli, "What's 'drink'?"

Wyli put her hands in her lap and looked at the girl, making eye contact. Who was this child, alone and wet in Jueno without any fundamental knowledge? Did she _have _parents? Or a home? She was Mithra, obviously, but she was a kid…Wyli was at her wits end just thinking about it and decided to just start explaining things as she spoke.

"This." Wyli reached out and picked up her mug to take a sip, "But be careful, it's hot."

"It's good."

The girl eyed her mug for a few more seconds, looking it over carefully. Slowly, she reached out and lifted it, imitating Wyli. She gradually brought it to her lips and took a sip, her eyes closing in shock as she did. She put the mug down quickly and brought one of her hands to her mouth.

"I told you to be careful!"

Wyli frowned. She picked up a napkin and leaned forward to dap gently at the girl's lips.

"Can…can I ask you a few questions?" Wyli asked, smiling as she did. She didn't really know much about kids, but she _did _know that if she was cheerful, it made things easier.

The girl nodded.

"Where are your parents?"

"Parents?"

"The people who took care of you…watched over you."

The girl shook her head, "I…I don't remember anyone like that."

"Ok…do you know where you live?"

"No."

Wyli leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her coco before asking a much simpler question, one that she should have asked right off the bat but didn't because she was more concerned with getting out of the rain.

"What's your name?"

The girl looked away from Wyli and put her hands down on her lap.

"You don't know your name?"

She shook her head.

"Well…what _do _you know?" Wyli asked, hoping the question didn't come out with as much fervor as it had sounded in her head. The last thing she wanted was to accidentally put razors into her voice.

"I know I'm alive and that you're who I saw when I woke up."

"Woke…up? Where did you wake up?"

"Right by where…where we met before before."

Wyli bit her lip. Had this girl just _woken up _in Upper Jueno with no recollection of her past or really any semblance of daily living? It sounded a bit far-fetched when Wyli thought it to herself in such a sentence, but she had really no reason to _not _believe it: the girl's actions and general behavior was proof enough.

"Well…" Wyli said, thinking of what to do next, "At least you know what _alive _is, right?"

"I do." The girl responded humorlessly, "You're alive. I'm alive…right?"

"That's right."

This entire situation made Wyli sad in a way. This girl didn't remember, didn't _know _who she was, where she was from: she didn't even know if she had a name. Wyli's dream suddenly whispered through her head, crystal clear, like someone had said it to her directly. Wyli's eyes widened and she looked at the girl, who was carefully taking another sip of her drink. Is this girl what her sisters were trying to tell her about in her dream? And if so, what significance did she carry? It had to be something important if her deceased sisters were telling her about it.

So now what?Wyli looked at the girl take another careful sip, this time expecting the heat of the drink. Does she get turned over to the local authorities? No, that wouldn't solve anything. They would just put her into some kind of orphanage and not do anything to solve her identity crisis. The governments of the world, according to the foreign news that the adventurers on Kazham brought in, only cared about the act of kindness and not the thought that was supposed to go into it. Wyli rapped her fingers softly on the table then bit her lip again (it was turning into a nervous habit). Across from her was this little, innocent amnesiac of a girl that she was too involved with to turn away…and there was the dream message to consider as well.

An idea popped into Wyli's head and everything pointed to it as the right thing to do.

"Say…" She said to the girl, "Why don't you come with me?"

"Where?"

"My home."

The girl lowered her head, "Home?"

"The place where I live…where I stay and go to every day and night."

Wyli hoped she understood. It was a bizarre practice, explaining everything normally taken astride in such detail. It was _so _bizarre, in fact, that Wyli was shaky unsure that she could do a good enough job.

The girl nodded, bobbing her chin slightly.

"Good." Wyli smiled and took another coco drink, "But…I need to call you something."

"You mean, a name?"

"Yeah, It'll be hard for me to talk to you without one."

The girl frowned, "But, I don't remember ever having a name."

Wyli tapped her finger on the table then spoke up, "Then how about we name you? Right here and now?"

Before the girl could answer, Wyli got up and walked over to her coat to get her slightly-damp storybook from it. She came back to the table and put it down, carefully moving aside her coco.

"What's that?" The girl asked, head cocked slightly as she looked.

"It's a storybook…people look at it and it tells them about different people and places."

"Oh."

Wyli opened the book, again hoping her explanation was enough for the girl.

"Ok, I'll say a name and you tell me if you like it, ok?"

She nodded.

"Hyau?" Wyli said, pulling it from a story about a magical lizard tooth. The girl pondered it for a second then shook her head. Wyli nodded and flipped through a few more chapters.

"Jahea?" She suggested, from a fable about a Mithra with wings. Again, the girl shook her head. Wyli flipped through the pages again.

"Rhical?" From a tale about a pirate Mithra.

"No, thank you."

Wyli started reading faster, skimming stories and saying names, not caring about the content.

"Ohkla?"

The girl shook her head.

"Lhuy?"

"No."

Wyli puffed out her cheeks and flipped through a whole stack of pages at once and when she reached the end of the book, she turned back to the start and began again flipping the pages. None of the names appealed to either her or the girl and Wyli was about to leave the book behind and start brainstorming, but a gust of wind blew outside hard enough to shake the café's wooden door. In the noise, Wyli heard a word, clear enough to pronounce but soft enough for her to question whether or not it was actually a word or just a play from the noise.

"What about…" Wyli bit her tongue, "How about Shika?"

The girl wrinkled her forehead as she thought. In her icy eyes Wyli could see some kind of happiness start to manifest, proving to her that this girl was indeed normal, but didn't possess any knowledge of such feelings.

"I want to be called that." She said, "Shika."

Wyli closed the book and stuck out her hand towards the girl. She smiled.

"Good to meet you then, Shika."

Shika looked at her hand and Wyli kicked herself.

"Take my hand." She said and Shika nervously reached up and took it. Her skin was warm against Wyli's.

Wyli smiled at Shika and, much to her surprise, got a smile in return. Shika opened her mouth to ask something, but Wyli knew what it was and beat her to the proverbial punch.

"It's _happiness_ that you're feeling…the feeling of something good."

Shika's grin grew a little wider. Wyli squeezed Shika's hand ever so slightly and then sat back down. The next airship wasn't for another hour or so, so she would spend this time with her new child charge.

Silently she asked her sisters if this is what they were talking about. It must have been: meeting Shika like she did was way too perfect to be coincidence. She took another sip of her coco and smiled. It was a relaxing moment in the café: something she was sure she wouldn't have many more of in the future. Her mother wouldn't like the idea of another kiddy around to feed at first and it might take some talking-to to get her to conform to the idea. Also, she still had to work today and train…not to mention the airship ride back.

She sighed and smiled at Shika, who had gotten the hang of drinking hot coco.

If nothing else, she thought, things aren't going to be dreary anymore.


	5. Heaven is Falling

**Verité au Vie**

By Brian Conley

**Four** _Heaven is Falling_

The rain hadn't quieted at all by the time Wyli and Shika had to leave the café, so they were forced to run through the torrent in a daring attempt to get to the airship terminal as fast as they could, ducking from awning to awning. They arrived with the half-victory of their hair only being drowned and their clothes only just a notch above how damp they'd been before. Once there, they made the sad discovery that the airship had been delayed for another half-hour, sticking them in the terminal for that long. Luckily, the terminal was warm and Shika was as she was, fascinated by everything around her.

"What's this?" Shika asked, poking her finger against a large paper map attached to a wall.

"That's a map, it shows us where we are in the world."

"Oh. Where are we?"

Wyli leaned over Shika and pointed to the yellow star that marked where Jueno was on the map, "Right here."

Shika nodded and Wyli took a step back to watch her, looking cute and puffy in her big down coat. She was a very sweet child. After spending only about two hours with her, Wyli had grown quite attached, more so then even she thought she would. There was just something _about _her that plucked at some heartstrings. Wyli hoped that her Mama would feel the same about her.

Shika had grown attached to her new name quickly, saying it to herself quietly and grinning when someone said it. Wyli was happy that it made _her _happy and besides, she liked the name and was glad that circumstances led to it.

"And what's San…san…" Shika frowned and pointed at the big castle that was San d'Oria on the map.

"It's a big city…a place where lot of people live."

"Oh. Is that where we're going?" Shika asked, moving her arms down to her sides and looking up at Wyli.

"No." Wyli took Shika's small hand in hers and moved her finger to Kazham.

"Oh…it's really…" Shika's frown got a little bigger at her lack of vocabulary. She reached her hand up and sized the map's picture of Kazham with her index finger and thumb.

"_Small, _Shika. The word you're looking for is _small_. It means not _big_."

"Kazham is really small, then."

"Actually, it's really big. It just looks small on that because there has to be space on the map for all the rest of the world to be shown. Everything on that map is much, _much _smaller then it really is."

"Oh."

The boarding bell broke into the pair's conversation and both of them turned to see the boarding doors open and the Galka attendee clatter the bell in his hand.

"Come on, kiddo. Time to go."

Shika nodded and followed Wyli as she flashed her boarding pass. As they found their way across the docks and onto the ship, Wyli felt relived—kids rode free with a pass-bearing adult and she couldn't be more grateful that they did. She had no more Gil left and a new Kazham pass was pretty pricey.

Wyli kept her hand on Shika's shoulder as they walked into the lower cabin and up against the back wall, right in front of another world map. Shika looked around the small room and once content with it, turned to look at the map, sticking her hands in the roomy pockets of the coat.

"What's this?" She asked, taking Wyli's hair bands from the pockets.

"Those are my hair bands." Wyli explained, using her left hand to feel the free-flowing hair on the back of her head. She had completely forgotten about them.

"You use them to hold your hair in place."

"Oh." Shika looked down at the two circles of elastic cloth in her hand and rolled her fist around them. Wyli smiled at her and lowered herself to sit on her knees (eye level with Shika), put her book down and moved her hands to uncurl Shika's fist and pluck the bands out of it. She unbuttoned her coat and under Shika's curious watch, slipped it off her arms. Shika's yellow dress was all wrinkled as it hung from her shoulders and Wyli took an extra moment to smooth it out best she could with the flat of her palm. It was a pretty little article, and Wyli vaguely remembered owning something like it when she was a child. For a second, Wyli toyed with asking Shika where she got the dress, but she bit her tongue and dismissed the question quickly.

"Turn around." Wyli commanded, twirling her finger.

Shika nodded and silently obeyed.

Wyli pulled Shika's auburn hair carefully into a small pony tail, her hair only went down to the nape of her neck, and then threaded the ponytail tuft through one of the hair bands and doubled it over so the ponytail stayed in place. She smiled at her handiwork and leaned back to sit up straight.

"There." She said and patted Shika caringly on the back. Shika turned and looked at Wyli, carefully feeling the new style.

"What is it?" She asked.

"It's a ponytail." Wyli explained and smiled, "Do you like it?"

"Yes." Shika said without hesitation, "I do. But…"

"But what?"

"Why did you give it to me?"

Wyli shrugged, "You wanted to know what the hair bands were for and I thought that a ponytail would look cute on you."

"What's cute?"

"Something nice to look at."

"Oh." Shika lowered her head a little and kept her hand feeling the ponytail. Wyli chuckled lightly and patted her knees twice before standing up. She reached her arms up and intertwined her fingers to stretch. As soon as her arms came down Shika looked up at her with a tiny grin.

"Now what do we do?" She asked, folding her hands behind her back.

"We _wait_." Wyli said, "That is, we sit here until we get to Kazham."

Shika bit her bottom lip and looked down at her feet. Wyli saw the expression of disappointment and, knowing that Shika didn't know what she was feeling, snapped to attention.

"How about we go up top and look around?" She said, clapping her hands together.

Shika perked up at the idea then frowned skeptically, "What about…rain?"

"There's a place up top where we can stay dry, we just have to hurry."

Wyli took a half-step and leaned down to pick up her coat. She stood up straight and held it open so Shika could thread her arms through the sleeves. As she did she looked at her arms then leaned her head backwards to look up at Wyli.

"Won't you be cold?" She asked.

"I'll be okay." Shika flashed a little glimpse of dissatisfaction and started towards the stairwell. Wyli quickly pulled her hair into a ponytail, using the second of the pair of hair bands. Once it was tight and set she tugged it once and stepped quickly to catch up with Shika, who smiled at her.

"That looks cute." She said and smiled. Wyli chuckled and ruffled through Shika's hair caringly, evoking a giggle from the girl.

Shika wasn't tall enough to see over the guardrail, it reached her forehead and stopped just above her eyes. Seeing this problem, Wyli made the offer to lift her up to see. Shika accepted and Wyli lifted her side-saddle onto her knee, which she propped against the rail. Neither of them said anything, they just watched the rolling land far below and the rain that fell in sheets over it. She didn't say anything, but Shika watched with an intrigue Wyli was sure she'd never understand. Wyli looked away from Shika and down at the world below. They were flying over Windurstian territory, what looked like Eastern Sarutabaruta. The rain was pounding a monotone drone against the shielding awning above them. The sky was still dark shades of grey, lumpy with clouds. The earth below was peppered with spiky Windurstian-only flora and fauna: the lizards and Mandregoras looking like insects as they scurried around.

Wyli took solace in this down time. Sure, she had her problems to concern herself with, chieftain training, store-tending and (maybe the worst of her tasks) talking her mother into letting Shika stick around for awhile, but none of that was foremost in her train of thought as she looked out across the land of Vana'diel with Shika at her waist. In fact, the only thing she _was _thinking about was Shika. She was thinking about how old she was, her hair, how she looked…she thought about how she didn't _know _anything and about what that must be like. Wyli couldn't even begin to imagine not knowing such common-place things like _rain_. Shika made her aware of how much she took such knowledge for granted. She never thought that someone beyond the age of seven would _not _know anything, let alone a girl like Shika, who looked about ten, _maybe _eleven—Wyli was never good at putting ages on people.

Shika pulled at Wyli's shirt, a gentle tug that took her from her thoughts. Wyli looked down to Shika, who leaned her head back, showing her nervous eyes and worried brow.

"What's wrong?" Wyli asked.

"I feel…weird." Shika answered, quivering.

"Can you try and tell me how?"

Shika shook her head, "I don't know how to tell you."

"Hmm." Wyli lifted a hand and put it across Shika's brow, "You might have gotten a little sick from getting wet."

"Sick?"

"Being sick means something is wrong in your body…something that's not supposed to happen. It makes your body feel bad."

"Oh. I…don't want to be sick."

"Nobody does. Can you tell me where you feel weird?" Wyli moved her hand from Shika's forehead and put it on her cheek, patting it slightly and assuring herself that a fever was _not _the problem. Wyli wasn't a doctor by any stretch of the imagination, but she had seen (and been treated by) her mother enough to know how to tell if a fever or anything of the ilk was plaguing someone. Shika's skin was cool and smooth, albeit a little sweaty on her forehead, but otherwise completely normal for a Mithra in good health.

"It's…" Shika huffed a little at her lack of words, "It's like _this_." She reached up a hand and pushed it against her chest.

"You're sweating a awful lot." Wyli said, wiping her finger across Shika's left temple, "Sweating is what happens when you're hot." She nervously bit at her tongue, kind of irritated that she couldn't quite explain 'sweating' with as much clarity as she hoped.

"I'm not hot." Shika said, patting her forehead to feel the slickness of the perspiration.

Wyli was puzzled as to what Shika was feeling, what she was trying to convey. It wasn't sickness, she felt fine and it wasn't being hot, it was pretty cool out, almost bitter because of the rain. Her mind ran at a thousand thoughts a second, sifting through everything she'd ever felt that had symptoms that coincided with what Shika said she felt but to know avail.

Thunder exploded in the sky, shaking the ship with. Holding Shika's sides, Wyli felt her jump at the noise and then turn at the waist to look up at her with a twist of panic across her face and her eyes drowning in a furry of tears.

"It's _thunder_." Wyli explained, "It's just heat and other stuff coming together in the sky. It won't hurt you."

Thunder yelled again and Shika shuttered, her hands instinctively flew up to clap over her ears. Wyli felt sudden grief for the girl and lowered her knee, letting Shika down into her arms. She wrapped her arms around her back and put her up to her shoulder, delicately caressing her shivering back.

"It's bad now." She said, whispering into Wyli's ear. Wyli understood suddenly then that it was _fear _that was harassing poor Shika. The sweat on her brow was nervousness of fright and the pressure on her torso was simply the normal manifestation of terror. The thunder must have been scaring her half to death. Wyli felt her heart rippling as she hugged her. A quick thought came: Shika was scared before the thunder came about.

The first action Wyli thought, dismissing other errant thoughts, to take was to get Shika inside and calm her down a little, _then _they could discuss emotions. She hugged Shika a little tighter and started for the stairwell. As she did she saw a few of the passengers who had ventured under the awning on the opposite side of the upper deck (a lone Taru and a pair of blue armor-clad Elvaan), obviously scared to below-deck by the thunder. She stepped out from underneath the awning and winced as the torrent of rain came down on her shoulders. She broke into a quick step, not running but jogging; an attempt to make it below deck somewhat dry.

"Look out!"

Islia's voice rang out in her head, crystal over the thunder and rain. She slid to a halt on the slippery-wet wood of the deck, skidding a few inches as she did.

She hadn't even come to a complete stop when the ground five feet ahead of her exploded in a wave of splinters, heat and debris. Wyli fell to one knee, shielding Shika, who had latched onto her back with her fingers, holding on so tight it felt like she was tearing the skin. Wyli let out a surprised shout and Shika screamed as the wash of wreckage rained down on them, a big piece of spiky wood slicing down her arm. Wyli cautiously looked up, gritting her teeth at the tight pinch of pain from her bleeding slash on her left upper arm. Ahead of her was a large crater formed in the wood, charred black around the edges and framed with fragmented wood. Lying ten feet from the impact was the one Taru she had seen running to go below deck before, next to him the two Elvaan, both getting up, looking out for each other.

A ripping roar pierced the pounding rain and Wyli looked up to see it's source float down to the top of the booth that housed the stairwell to below-deck; her eyes widened and she clenched Shika tighter, slowly getting to her feet, ready to run. It was a Dragon, something Wyli had only ever _read _about. Its body was colossal, bigger then Wyli by at least six times. It was standing on two thick legs, each foot ended in sharp knives of claws. It's arms were stretched out at it's sides, it's silver blades of claws extending from it's fingertips and making it's arm span as long as it's wingspan; it's big, grey-blue scaled wings fluttered out and waving back and forth in the windy rain. It's head was smoothed, almost round, on it's tremendous set of shoulders, two pointy ears protruding from the head above it's eyes, which were shining a sapphire blue that was only a few shades above the color of it's scaly skin.

On her shoulder Shika loosened her grip and turned around. Wyli wanted to stop her but couldn't: she had to get to safety and honestly, that was all she could think about. Shika didn't say anything upon looking at the roaring beast, just widened her eyes and clenched tighter onto Wyli and buried her head into her shoulder. Wyli took a step back and was prepared to dash away, to _get _away when she remembered that she was on a airship: _nowhere to go_.

The dragon reared its head back and roared, bellowing to the grey heavens above. It then lowered its head to look evenly at Wyli, eyes sparkling in the rain. Something flashed in Wyli's mind: a blur of a thought that felt familiar…felt _warm_. It only lasted a split-second but it was a distraction to her and for that second she was frozen, unable to move, Shika still clawing into her back out of fear. The dragon whipped out claws, slicing through the air in front of it. Wyli saw the motion then felt the ground beneath her erupt and felt intense pain shoot through her legs as she was lifted up into the air by the force of the blast. In the air she felt another blast from the ground beneath her and felt the blast force Shika to slip away from her grip, the small girl's hands grasping desperately to stay attached as she flew away.

Wyli landed with a bone-shattering crash on the now-charred and destroyed airship deck, her shoulder shooting immense pain. She thought and used her good arm to pull herself up as far as she could. Balancing on her wobbly arm she saw Shika land ten feet away from her, bouncing slightly as she hit the deck.

"Shika!" She cried out, burning her lungs. Hot tears gathered in her eyes and roll down her cheeks, lost in the pouring rain still. Another roar came and Wyli looked upwards to see the dragon hover from the top of the stairwell to float down to in front of Shika. It landed with a splintering crash, breaking more of the floor under its weight. It took a step towards Shika, who had collected herself enough to sit up, eyes still wide with absolute terror and her left arm wrapped across her torso. Wyli watched helplessly as the dragon encroached on her and Shika opened her mouth to yell something that was lost to the rain and muddled hearing.

A daggered claw was raised and it came down to Shika. Wyli screamed and fell down onto the deck, her arm giving out. She took a few deep breaths and pulled herself back up to see the pair of Elvaan clad in blue armor standing with swords drawn pushing at the dragon's claws, holding it back…saving Shika. Wyli took another deep breath and started to pull herself towards Shika. In her mind all she could think of _was _saving her. Nothing else mattered: not getting home, not the airship, not Kazham…nothing.

She wondered, why and how it came to this so quickly, the dragon, Shika…this terror was all part of her fate…if her sisters knew about this when she dreamed of them. Everything was supposed to stay peaceful…nothing like this was ever supposed to happen to people like her.

The dragon tore through the Elvaan, knocking one to the ground and the other to the side, clear over the side of the ship. It then re-focused on Shika, its blue hue returning to its eyes. Wyli gritted her teeth and rose to her feet, her fractured bones rubbing wrong and sending excruciating pain up her body, dragging her back to the ground. She gritted her teeth again and rather then stand, she dragged herself forward with her good arm. The dragon took one last thundering step towards Shika and drove a claw towards her again.

"Shika, _run_!" She yelled and Shika turned to look at her. "Run!"

Wyli caught Shika's eyes for a second and it lasted for what felt like eons. Even from a distance, she could see Shika's cool grey eyes and unknowing gaze. She felt like she had known Shika for a million years…that she loved her like a sister.

Shika broke the forever stare and rolled to the side, Wyli's storybook falling out from the folds of her coat. The dragon's straight claws drove straight through it, tearing into in a flurry of pages and digging into the deck beneath it like a arrow going through taut cloth. It returned its claws back, bringing pieces of the deck up with it. It shook it off and turned to look at Shika again, this time moving quick as it could, swinging at the at the air in front of it, attacking nothing. From next to Shika the ground exploded and knocked her into a roll that led her straight into the side of one of the awning pillars. She rubbed at her head and pulled herself up to sit, looking up at the dragon. It turned to look at her and raised a hand again, telling Wyli exactly it was going to do.

Panic set in as she realized Shika was still stunned. She couldn't dodge this one.

It swung it claw and Shika looked up at it, not making any motion to protect herself…her arms both wrapped around her torso and holding her bleeding head.

Wyli yelled and fell to her chest, thrusting her good arm up in a vain attempt to stop the attack.

And everything stopped. The dragon was frozen in place, Shika was frozen in place. Wyli saw everything but couldn't move. Couldn't think, couldn't _breath_. Her mind was racing at a million miles an hour: everything she had ever remembered, all of her coherent memories of life started to compact into that one instant. She tried to rip her muscles free of the hold, to tear her body up off the ground to save Shika but couldn't. Nothing was responding…everything was just a rush of pure thought…it was hard to make sense of anything and no air was entering her lungs.

Her thoughts cleared, pinpointing a focus on one moment: dunking her head in the ocean, visiting her sisters. She re-felt the cool ocean waters, re-thought the thoughts of death and remembered her longing love for her family slain.

She remembered the warmth and air pushed into her lungs, her breath returning to her in a solid rush.

The freeze broke away and the dragon's invisible attack flew high and crashed into the bridge, shattering glass and crushing all the steering mechanics. Wyli inhaled sharply and her vision cleared to see Shika shaking with fear, looking at the dragon. Wyli looked at the beast and saw it clutching at it's rounded head, its blades of fingers cutting its scaly flesh, dark blood seeping out. It took a spastic step backwards, flailing left and right, roaring. Wyli shook away from looking at it and gritted her teeth to pull herself to Shika. Every movement was torture for her but she had to do it…she had to get to Shika.

The dragon flung its arms out, sending attacks to rip the ground and sides of the ship, igniting something along the way. The flames stretched high into the air and the dragon reeled back, crashing through the remnants of the guardrail and fell backwards, only to start flying and float away out of sight. Wyli ignored its disappearance and pulled herself as quickly as she could to Shika.

"Shika…" She said once she reached her, reaching out her good arm and putting it on her shoulder. Shika looked down at Wyli and with utmost fear rattling in her eyes showed her the blood painted across her hand.

"What…what is this?" She asked, "What was that thing that did this…? Why…?"

She saw tears form in her eyes and Shika collapsed to her side, sobbing loudly, curling into a ball. Wyli pulled herself to lean against the remains of a pillar and pulled Shika into her lap, lying her body on her thighs and her head on her stomach (the only two places on her body that didn't seem to be broken). She rubbed Shika's head and looked down at her own legs, quickly assuming they were broken or fractured, as was her right arm.

"I…I called your name…" Shika sobbed, "I called it and…and…"

Shika's didn't finish her sentence. Her cries were long and loud…loud enough to be heard over the crashing torrent of rain and the destruction of the ship. Wyli felt her heart break for the girl and their situation and lowered her head, tears pouring from her eyes. She rested her arm on Shika's head, still caressing the child as if she were her daughter. And there they sat, sobbing together as the ship around them started to fall apart. For a brief second, Wyli thought about somehow trying to escape, but she couldn't stand up and Shika…Shika couldn't do it without her. So she cried…she cried and offered her tears as a apology to Shika. An apology for not being good enough a guardian. For not _being _there…for not being the protector she had made herself out to be. She had only known Shika for not even half a day, but she felt like she was a part of her now. She had _named _Shika…explained to her the basics of life…to die after only truly living for so short a time…

"It's not fair." Wyli thought and her tears got worse, her cries as loud as Shika's. Shika's tears…the tears of a girl who didn't even know why she was crying and was probably crying because of such. The wooden frame of the ship split in two, following the lines of the Dragon's last invisible assault. The sound was a fantastic fracturing noise, overshadowing the rain and the burning fires from the bowels of the ship. Wyli felt the ground beneath her give way and she pulled Shika closer, feeling her facial features press into her stomach. Around the pair was a hurricane of noise and destruction. Nothing could be heard but the sounds of explosions and splintering wood. Everything was lost to the crash…the passengers, the captain, the ship itself…the sounds of the rain and lastly:

The sounds of two lost Mithra, crying as they fell to the earth below.


	6. The World Won't Stop Without You

**Verité au Vie**

By Brian Conley

**Five **The World Won't Stop

* * *

_Dear Timothy, _

_How's the Weather in Windurst? I keep checking the linkshells and it always seems to be hot there. I hope you find a way to keep cool, you've never been good in heat. How's Army life treating you? Is the Windurstian way tougher then Bastok? Everyone here I talk to scoffs at that idea, but I'll wait to get your thoughts, 'cause you have first-hand. As for us, everyone here at home is pretty much the same. Mama is still playing head-chef at the school, Papa's still at the Ironworks and me…well, I'm still maintaining my every day-to-day. We all miss you. I mean, we all put on brave faces when you decided to transfer to the Windurstian Army…none of us wanted to see you go. I know the experience will be good for you, diversity and all that but I miss you. I dunno, I think me and you made a pretty good pair, as far as siblings go, yeah? Oh, Mom's calling me, I'll write again later. Stay cool and healthy. _

_Love, Aylia_

Timothy folded his sister's handwritten letter back into its envelope, careful not to tear it. He looked at her loopy handwritten address, smiling at her exaggerated Ls. He hoped his family was really as alright as she made it out to be, he sure they were, but being away from how often they drew out the worst of thoughts. Timothy collapsed into his bed and watched the ceiling, daydreaming of the family left behind. Before transferring to the Windurstian army, his sister and he spent a lot of time together, whether it be carousing the markets of Bastok, fishing in Northern Gustaberg or just playing quiet games of chess at home. Getting a letter from her plucked singularly at a heartstring and rang lonely throughout. Being away from home, he surmised, makes one realize how much you took it for granted. Back home, Timothy would have never said to his sister's face, _I love you_, but enlisted in a foreign army nearly across the globe, he said it in his prayers every night.

Timothy reached his hands up to rub over his face. Being homesick was bad in and of its self, but he was also tired—he had just gotten off a seven-hour walking patrol of all of rainy Windurst, which were essentially five laps of the entire city on foot. What's more is that he was one of three humans in residing in Windurst (army or otherwise) and didn't quite fit into the Mithran and Taru ways of life. Here, people were reserved and well-mannered…the Taru alone seemed to be the paradigm of politeness and the complete opposite of the Galka he was used to residing with. And what exactly was the point of a four-thousand-plus-troop army in such a city of peace? Nothing ever happened here…the most the law ever had to do was to help clean up stray brushfires out in Sarutabaruta or maybe help escort a bank carriage to Jueno…simple things—things that a small fifty officer brigade could handle.

Everyone was just afraid of the next big war. It was true…the only reason any army still existed was because of fear of battle. San d'Oria had its Royal Knights, Bastok had its Grand Army and Windurst had the Legionnaire's Army. The three Armies only stayed banded together because (despite floods of national treaties, proclamations and alliances) the Nations all feared war and none of them wanted to be caught unawares, if one broke out. Timothy remembered his sister's words, the day before he was transferred to Windurst. They had gone to eat lunch out on the flattened roof of a favorite restaurant, sort of a last meal. The same subject of why the armies existed came up and Aylia brought the entire conversation to a single point:

"Having soldiers ready to throw their lives away for country and pride is an act of fear."

Timothy smiled at thoughts of his sister-left-behind and frowned. It felt like it had been a really long day. He put his hands on his stomach and frowned…it was only about noon and he was thoroughly exhausted, hungry and homesick. It was a good thing he had the rest of the day off: he wasn't sure he could have made it through any more. He took a deep breath and sat up, deciding on the simple course of action to take a brief walk to a nearby eatery to get something to go, something he could eat while slouching around at home. He yawned again and stretched his arms as he started putting his shoes back on.

It had been raining since early morning and Timothy decided as he walked back into it that he was as full of rain as he could get. He liked the occasional grey day as much as the next guy, but this was Windurst rain; more comparable to a waterfall then to anything else. What made him even _sicker_ of it was the fact that he had to hike the city in the stuff, soaking him completely to the bone within minutes. At the very least, he appreciated that it was a warm rain. Had it been like the bitter rains of Bastok, Timothy would be in an infirmary with pneumonia. He stuck his hands into his pockets and kept his head down in his hood, glad still to be out of his uniform. H made the walk to the restaurant attached to the left of the culinary guild: the food there was cheap, tasty and often times they served foreign foods as their daily special; which was a lot heartier then the light meats that the Mithran usually dined on. Plus, he could get something to go and eat back in his room as he wrote back to Aylia. He smiled at the thought and started to write up a rough draft in his mind, sure he wouldn't remember it when he got back but it was nice to do anyway.

_Dear Aylia, _

_Thanks for the letter. I hope everyone is really doing ok and that you're not lying to me (ha-ha). I'm fine here in Bastok and I hope to be back by the end of the year. Anyway, I'm eating lunch now, hopefully it's going to be grilled sheep…when the restaurant here makes it its absolutely delicious. What's Mom making for diner tonight? Hope it's not another one of her 'healthy' things, like those eggplants she stuffed with boiled cabbage. Gross. _

He paused his mental letter as he came across the front doors of the restaurant. He walked in a sidled up to the counter, thankful that it was fairly early in the day and that nobody was really around to crowd the place. A teenage Mithra was on the other side and Timothy smiled politely at her.

"What's the special today?" He asked, hoping for something Bastokian. She looked down at the mini reference menu on the counter then back up at Timothy.

"Mithkabobs." She said, "Green pepper or Garlic."

"Ok." Timothy said, masking disappointment. He liked Mithkabobs, but they were more like a snack food to him, to all humans. In fact, back in Bastok, Aylia would buy them (from a import store) and she would snack on them while working on homework. It was a shame that the special was the kabobs…the only other constant foreign food were those disgusting Hedgehog Pies from San d'Oria.

"I'll take six orders to-go, three pepper, three garlic." Timothy ordered, not able to keep the small smile from the corner of his mouth. The teenage Mithra smiled and shook her head as she went to go get the food. Timothy didn't expect to sound so greedy…so _hungry _when he ordered it. Actually speaking that he wanted six orders-which was well over fifty kabobs-struck him as funny. While his order was getting ready, he continued his letter.

…_Anyway…it's your birthday soon, right? Just a few more days and you'll be the ripe old age of seventeen. I'll try to send you a present, I promise…but I don't expect one in return. I know you don't get much Gil and what you do have I want you to spend on yourself and not on your silly twin brother. Windurst's weather is fine, albeit a little hot, but fine. It's raining today, pretty hard. Hah, it's even hot when it rains, so much so that all these Mithran, young or old, are wearing nothing but bikinis. You wouldn't wear a bikini in Bastok rain, right? Or would you just not wear a bikini at all? You were never one to show off that lanky body of yours. _

"That'll be thirty Gil, sir."

Timothy shook free of his letter and dug into his pocket to get his money. He piled the mess of paper and coins on the counter and picked up the big bag of kabobs in front of him. He thanked the amused clerk and headed out to head back to his room, the food piping hot hanging from his hand.

Back in his room, Timothy changed into dry clothes and laid out his mithkabob feast down on the table in the center of the room. He sighed happily and before sitting down did a circle around his room, grabbing a pencil, some paper, opening the shade on his window to let in some of the grey morning light and then finally taking a seat, spreading out his paper and opening the first of six cardboard containers of kabobs, the garlic scent washing through the room in a delicious fog. Mithran cuisine was light but also very tasty. Timothy grinned and picked one up as he started writing. He jotted down what he remembered of what he wrote in his thoughts as he was out and about. After those two paragraphs he picked up another kabob and tapped his pencil against his chin and then started on the last one.

_Ok, well…I'm hungry and tired and I'm sure you have chores or homework or something like that to do, right? So, if you excuse me I have to go chow down on about fifty-something mithkabobs and then go sleep them off. Tell mom and dad that I said 'hi' and that I'll write them a letter later on and you be good, ok? _

_Love,_

_Timothy _

Timothy flicked away a bare kabob stick and folded the letter into three and slid it to the side as he continued eating. He would mail it after he ate…sleeping on a full stomach suddenly didn't seem to sit too well with him. Besides, he still had to buy her a present, which, knowing his sister was quite the undertaking. Buying for her was always such a pain…he never knew what she wanted. Clothes, maybe? He knew her size (six) and what she liked (something flowery in red), but he still didn't like getting her, or anyone, clothes as gifts. It just seemed so _impersonal_. Maybe something besides, he hoped, would strike him as he caroused the many shops Windurst had to offer. Money was no real object either, the army paid out a two-hundred a week allowance, _living money _they called it. And Timothy was real frugal with it, only spending _maybe _a hundred a week. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, grabbing another full kabob to chew on as he did.

* * *

The rain hadn't even subsided a little when Timothy stepped back out side to go gift-shopping about a half-hour later. He tucked the now-enveloped letter into his thin coat's pocket and patted it twice, making sure it wouldn't get wet. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as he started to walk, his stomach full and making him feel sluggish. He decided to head to the Waters first: there was a little boutique there that sold girly non-clothing things, such as books and toys. He hoped to find something there that would strike his sister as interesting.

He walked along the dirt paths until they changed to wooden bridges suspended over murky, rain-beaten waters. The winds picked up a little, blustering the rain around and washed the smells of Windurst over Timothy: the fresh cut grass, high-growing sunflowers and the cool water that snaked through all of Windurst. Looking around, Timothy smiled at the houses, each one with a pointed roof and flat walls made of countless perfectly fitted boards. From inside each one there was soft light glowing, lit to contend with the darkness the rain brought about. The entire atmosphere was relaxed, like the entire town was a sleepy child ready to fall asleep. Timothy took it all in as he walked along with his hands in his pockets, stopping every few steps to peer into various windows, scoping out wares and prospective presents. He looked at golden necklaces shaped in all varieties with strategically placed jewels, like sapphires as the antenna for golden butterflies and red rubies as the eyes of gold fish pendants. They were pricey through and Aylia wasn't into jewelry. He looked at hats and glasses, wooden trains and tops…all very interesting, but nothing his sister would like. After passing a few more stores and houses he came across a bookstore. He looked into its window and read the cover of a few of the display books. One was about a history of Windurst (what looked like a textbook), another was a thick novel about Windurst government workers and the last of the three displayed was a even thicker book, with a plain cover and block-letter words spelling a title, _Fables, Stories and Fairy Tales of Mithras. _He didn't know what about it caught his eye, but it did. He grinned a little at it and went inside.

The bookstore was soft with comfort inside, lining the frame of the square ceiling were about fifty paper lanterns, warming the store with their soft light. Timothy looked around, smiled a greeting at the Mithra at the counter who looked up from her book only to return the smile. Timothy made his way to the display case and picked up the book. He flipped through it and skimmed a few of the stories, reading snippets about pirates, magical lizards and a warrior and some goblins. Something clicked in his mind and he heard Aylia's voice cheer happily. He closed the book and looked it over in his hands, glad to have found something that he knew his sister would like and would _keep _liking. She always was a sucker for a good book and this one was like fifty books in one. He nodded in silent confirmation and walked to the counter, putting the book down next to the open one the clerk was reading. The young Mithran clerk looked up at Timothy, smiled and stood up straight.

"Is that it?" She asked politely, looking at the book.

"Yeah." Timothy responded and dug into his pocket for a handful of Gil, "How much?"

"Fifteen."

Timothy counted it out and handed the money to the girl, who dropped it in the register drawer and closed it shut.

"It's a good book." She said, "I loved it when I was a kid." She eyed Timothy up and down and he caught her gaze, making her grin a little and look away.

"Odd that a _human _would buy it." She said, using a tone that offered no hints of racial slander.

"It's for my sister, actually. She's into books like this and, well, I think the diversity wouldn't hurt."

"How old is she?"

"Uh, seventeen next firesday. This is a birthday gift."

"Oh!" The girl said, her ears perking up on top of her head, "You should have told me! I can wrap it for you, for an extra two Gil…uh, if you want?"

"That would be great, thanks." He smiled and paid the two Gil and watched her turn to wrap the book in a red wrapping paper peppered with yellow stars. It was odd to Timothy though, making small talk with her like that…ever since arriving in Windurst about a half-year ago, he'd hadn't had much conversation with _any _townsfolk. His sister had always told him that conversation with anyone outside of the family wasn't his strong suite and that he needed to work on it. He of course would scoff at the idea, but in retrospect he thought that she was right. It was even more so in Windurst because he was a _human _and the populous was mostly Mithran and Taru…two cultures _completely _different then that of Bastok's. The people of Bastok, for the most part, were loud, brash and outspoken (though mostly nice, honest people). Windurst's people were collected, quiet and calm and put others before themselves, a practice which was hard to find in a Bastokian. And to make his problem worse was that he was trying to become as calm and easy-going as the city around him was, but still had those birth-given Bastok traits in him—another reason why he had stayed to himself as much as he could.

"For a seventeen year old…" The Mithra clerk said, "this'll be a quick read, but it's very good and most of the stories are memorable." She laid the last piece of tape on and turned around to present it to Timothy, neatly enfolded in the colorful paper.

"Enjoy and happy birthday to your sister." She said and Timothy smiled. He opened his mouth to thank her, but was interrupted by a crash that road from outside, loud enough to rattle windows and shake the lanterns. Shadows danced violently across the walls.

"The hell was that?" He asked and turned to look at the clerk, "You ok?"

She nodded, "Yes."

"Ok. Stay inside." He told her, putting a military tone in his voice. He didn't want to play it like that, like he was the superhero who barked orders to civilians, but it was how he _always _spoke in dangerous situations. He grabbed his wrapped book, stuck in under his coat and dashed outside. As soon as his foot splashed onto the wet ground there was another crash, just as loud as the prior, shaking the heavens with its thunder. Timothy raised his hands to his ears and winced, looking up at the sky and trying to pinpoint the source.

An alarm went off, a military call that snapped Timothy to attention. When that alarm rang all cadets, troops and anyone associated with the Windurstian Amy had to report _post haste _to their respective briefing halls. Timothy bit his lip in concern and took off in the direction of his assigned hall. The fact that the alarm was going off meant one of two things: that there was a full-scale enemy attack or that something pretty goddamned big had gone down…and judging from the noise, that was probably the scenario. All around him people were poking heads out of doors and windows to see what was going on and other army personnel were breaking into runs alongside Timothy, coming out of houses, restaurants and stores.

Timothy ran past his house, it was en route to the briefing hall, and quickly shoved both Aylia's book and letter into the delivery box to pick up later, if there was a later, that alarm had never rang in the six months he had been living here…he only knew what to do because of the training he had upon arriving. So naturally, he was a little bit frightened. What if the crash was the sound of an enemy magic assault, out in Sarutabaruta? Hell, half of the fields out there could be engulfed in flames already and along with them lots of innocents-no. No thinking like that. He gnawed harder on his lip and ran faster, hoping it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

* * *

"Am…am I dead?"

"Oh, no…not yet."

"But…but my body…and the airship…"

"You lived, don't worry. You're broken all over, but you lived."

"Shika…oh no, is she ok?"

"She'll be fine. She's a tough kid."

"Wait…who are you? Your voice…it sounds familiar."

"You know me…you will remember in due time. Listen, I can't stay long…just heed my words: protect Shika. If she dies, so does all of Vana'diel. Oh! I have to go…"

"Wait!"

"Sorry…we'll talk again at a later time. I love you!"

"Wait…Islia! Islia, don't go!"

* * *

Shika woke up with her hand over her head, covered in something dark and sticky. As she moved it away from her head, something sharp shot up through her body, telling her to keep the head wound covered. She put the hand back on the sticky spot and then opened her eyes, only to close them again immediately as a few raindrops splashed into them. She scowled and tried to use her other hand to shield her face, but it rang with some terrible, roaring feeling and she pressed her teeth tightly together, laying the arm back on the dirt. She lay looking at the grey sky that she could see around her raised hand. She looked at it for what felt like forever, watching the rain fall down around her. She turned her head to look away from the clouds and sawWyli, clutching her stomach and taking shallow breaths as she slept. She had a lot of pieces of the airship spread out on her, the biggest ones lying over her legs.

"What do I do?" Shika though and suddenly felt like she could sleep forever and relaxed her muscles, letting slumber overcome her again.

Timothy got to the briefing hall as soon as his Commanding Officer had started speaking. His CO was a tall, buffer-then-most Mithra who had jet-black hair…Timothy couldn't remember her name nor did he try. There was such an atmosphere of urgency that all he wanted to do was find out what was going on. He squeezed into a space at the end of a bench and clenched his fists as she started talking.

"Listen up!" She shouted to get everyone's attention, which was unnecessary due to the fact that everyone was already glued to every word she was going to say.

"That was an airship, number seven, crashing headlong into northern Tahrongi Canyon. Our outpost reports that it dragged deep as it crashed, spreading its debris for almost two miles. We have already contacted the ships origin port, Jueno's Kazham dock, via linkshell and found out that there were sixty-five people aboard, fifteen of which were passengers. Now, Windurst would help out _any _airship crash, but this one is in Windurstian territory…_our _turf. That being as such, everyone here will be issued a linkshell and search area. Jueno has promised to send as many reinforcements as possible…but that may take awhile. So, until then, you will all take you, your linkshell and a chocobo to the site and all _work together _to secure the sixty-five people aboard, alive or not. We'll be using standard linkshell code for this; no fancy stuff. Understood? Line up and get your assignments."

She saluted and Timothy, as well as the rest of the group, did the same and then all began to bustle to get their linkshells. Timothy pushed around through the crowds, found a line, waited the five something minutes and got to the head of the line, where a small card table had been set up with a large wooden box of linkshells next to it.

"Wessin, Timothy." He said to the issuing Mithra. She nodded, wrote down his name and tossed a silver linkshell at him.

'Lucky you, human." She said, "You get the heart of the beast. Sector A-12."

Timothy saluted, not caring that his race had come into play, and left, almost running to the stables. His heart was pounding at a million miles an hour, almost rattling right out of his chest. His mind was a wash of emotion: worry, fear and…and urgency. He had to get to his searching sector…this was the first big thing to happen to him in Windurst and aside from wanting to prove himself, he was awash with wanting to do right by his position. Over sixty people aboard, he thought. For some reason, maybe the compassion of his heart, he felt bad for them and felt that he had to hurry and get to them to help them…to help the ones he could.

He wouldn't like it at all if anyone died under his watch.

* * *

"What…what is this?"

"It's a dream, young Shika. That is your name, right?"

"R-right…what's a dream?"

"A dream is your soul calling to you as you sleep. It is your very essence of life coming to you in its truest form."

"Who are you?"

"I am your missing link. Your mind and memories, all put together."

"Do…do you have a name?"

"…"

"Hello?"

"Wake up, Shika. Wake up and meet your psyche!"

* * *

Wyli's entire body felt as though it were engulfed in flames. Her legs were beyond sore…so far so that she could only feel pain emanating from them, with no sign at all of relief. Even the delicate raindrops were explosions against her bruises. The pain of her body extended up through her torso, dulled ever so slightly in her stomach and then rose back to full again in her shoulder and head. She hadn't even opened her eyes, out of fear that they too would hurt or that, God forbid, she had been cast blind. Moving slowly she opened her eyes, but only got halfway before rain forced them closed again. She put her good hand over them and tried again, this time opening them fully. She took a deep breath and looked around, moving her head in tiny arcs left and right. She saw nothing but piles of smoldering wreckage around her, mounds of sharp, broken wood and millions of shards of glass, sparkling in the rain like diamonds in sand. She tried to sit up, but her body wouldn't let her. She was just too weak. So instead, she flung her arm out to her right and, like she hoped, felt the tiny body of Shika lying next to her, taking small breaths as she slept.

"Thank heavens."

She took some solace in the fact that Shika was alive…that they were both alive. She never thought, in all her life, that she would have been in an airship crash…and _survive_! Her mother was never going to believe this…or how it a dragon, a real-life honest-to-God _Dragon_ was almost out of the realm of Wyli's possibilities. She had read about Dragons, yes, but in her storybooks they never said that they might be _real _and attack an airship with what felt like the purpose of killing a child. Thinking back on it, the fact that it was only after Shika sent a thrill of fear through Wyli, making her body hurt a little more. Why? Why only Shika…? Even weirder was the how the dragon was stopped. Time had seemed to stop…everything frozen in place and then the dragon fluttered off, but not before crushing more of the ship. Why...? Wait. Islia talked to her. It must have been when she was unconscious from the crash that her sister talked to her…there was no other time. She didn't say much, she sounded like she was being rushed, but she did say that if Shika died…all of Vana'diel did as well? Cryptic, but also something that made Wyli even more frightened. What had she gotten herself into, taking on the caring role for Shika?

Today was supposed to be routine…a simple trip to Jueno and back and that was that. Nowhere in her itinerary was 'getting caught in airship crash then lying in the smoking wreckage with countless broken bones'. Wyli closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath, suffering through the pain her ribs rang as she did. She was unsure what to do now…should she start calling for help? She didn't know if she had it in her to raise her voice, but she could try. Or did she just lie here and wait for help, which she was sure would come. No matter where the ship crashed (she thought they were over Tahrongi Canyon) one of the three cities would send help, no doubt. At the very least, Jueno would. Also, she had Shika to worry about. She couldn't think about what to do without thinking about her. Shika's legs and arms seemed to be fine, amazingly enough, so if she just waited for her to wake up, then maybe _Shika _could go for help. That sounded good and all, but what if Shika didn't wake up for a while? The rain was warm, but it could still open the doors to pneumonia or worse—it was a tricky situation.

Something clattered by Wyli's feet and she lifted her head a half-inch off the ground to see some of the rubble start to separate, like something was coming through. Wyli felt incredible relief wash over her: this had to be rescue and that would mean her and Shika would be saved. Saved until they asked what happened.

The rubble separated and a black uniform stepped through, crunching on the glass and debris on the ground. Wyli smiled at it and looked the figure up and down as it came into full view. It was a man, she could tell by his build, and was dressed in black cloth, solid on his torso and wrapped black cloth around his arms and legs, each capped by leather gloves and boots, respectively. She tried to raise her head up more to see his face but couldn't, her neck pulled her back down with an angry pulse of pain. She watched the man take two steps forwards, large steps, much larger then she could imagine…almost as if he was moving so fast that only a few steps could be caught. He stopped on the other side of Shika and leaned down next to her, giving Wyli a clear view of his face. He had auburn hair, ruffled and spread out much like Shika's was and two Mithran ears on top of his head. This was a male Mithra…the rarest of the rare.

"Thanks…" Wyli said weakly, "Thank you…thank you for helping us." Her astonishment at the sight of a male would have to wait. She hurt all over and, if he was here to rescue them, she really didn't care _what _he was…it could have been a female Galka for all she cared.

The male Mithra smirked and scooped Shika up into his arms. He looked her over left and right and then laughed.

"This…this is what the soul has become? A _child_? Those ancients do not understand what I am capable of…if they think that imprisoning the soul in the flesh of a little girl will _stop _me in any way, they are, nay, _were _sadly mistaken."

Wyli realized with a horror that this man was _not _here to help them. His voice alone was a giveaway…he used a tone that flared with confidence and contempt. Every word he said like he had been rehearsing it for _eons _before he spoke it.

"The flesh offers no protection from my will, I'm afraid." He said and flung Shika over his shoulder and starting to walk off. Wyli frowned and opened her mouth.

"Stop!" She yelled, her throat not liking how loud it was forced to work, "Put her back! Don't hurt her! Don't _touch _her!"

The man stopped and turned on his heel, looking down at Wyli and finally giving her attention.

"I can admit to you, mortal, that I cannot hurt her, nor obtain what I wish, without the key. You can take a little solace in that before you perish." He laughed a little and turned again to leave.

"_Stop!_" Wyli yelled, making her body erupt in waves or agony.

* * *

Thanks to his rushing, Timothy was one of the first to get a chocobo and be on his way. As he dashed along the plains of Sarutabaruta he narrowed his eyes and used a hand to quickly pull the hood of his poncho up (he had gotten it at the stable…he was required to as it had Windurst's emblem on it and a place for his linkshell). He whipped the reins again and the chocobo sped up, warking sorely as it did.

"Sorry, buddy." Timothy said to it and patted its head. He didn't like pushing animals this hard, but he had to get to the airship crash. For some reason, one he couldn't pinpoint, he felt more of an obligation to get there then he did more then anything else in his entire life. It was almost like…like his very soul was pulling him to the crash. Within minutes he had left Sarutabaruta and was in the canyon, the acrid smell of smoke already biting his nose. As he wound his way out of the path that led to the main canyon he gasped in horror. Lying crushed like a sheet of tin in the middle of the canyon was the airship, much bigger then he expected it to be. He didn't stop to look at it from afar though; he kept riding, now careful to get out of the way of the swarm of fellow troops riding behind him.

He rode a little ways then took out his linkshell and squeezed it on. The readout came up immediately, showing the square map of the canyon. The technology was the child of the last hundred years of mages in Windurst and Timothy couldn't be more grateful. He rode onward, the smell of smoke, from burning wood and _whatever _else was getting stronger. The ship looked like it had been cut into two and then thrown into the ground, explaining the cause of _two _crashes. Aside from a scant few pieces of the hull that had collapsed inward, one wouldn't be able to tell that it had been a airship…all it was now was a thousand tons of smoldering lumber, spread in a streak of debris across the canyon. Timothy shook his head in disbelief and nudged the chocobo to go faster.

He arrived at, according to the linkshell, sector A-11 within minutes. He looked around and sighed as he realized that A-12 was dead center of the ship.

Heart of the beast, he though, understanding what the issuing Mithra meant. He tucked his linkshell into his poncho pocket and dismounted. He patted the chocobo twice and started towards the pile of debris ahead of him. He lifted up one of the splintery pieces of wood and tossed it to the side. He did that with three more pieces, until he heard a shriek coming from further in the center. He looked up, unable to see over the mountain of wood and then left and right, at the equally-alert Mithra around him, also clearing out debris. Timothy didn't think twice about it and hopped up to climb the rubble, cutting his hands and legs as he did.

* * *

"Before I take my leave, mortal, I will say _thank you_. You brought the soul from it's birth-point to me…I thought I had taken a risk, sending the body to claim it. But, it seems everything worked out in the end."

Wyli took a few deep breaths and, with a crushing pain all through her burning body, flipped over onto her stomach. She lifted herself up with her good arm and reached out her bad arm in a pathetic attempt to re-claim Shika. The man looked at her then smiled.

"You really care for the soul, don't you? If you are willing to dive off the mortal coil just to rescue the false persona you've grown attached to, then I truly pity you."

"Give her back." Wyli, thinking quickly, snatched up a sharp piece of glass below her and whipped it at the man's leg, tossing it the way the chieftain taught her to toss a knife. It didn't fly perfectly, but it did cut the cloth of the man's outfit. He looked down at it and smirked again.

"Your spirit is growing stronger by the minute…" His eyes widened, "Could it be…_you_? Ha! What perfection this is! To find the last two pieces of my imposing puzzle at the same time…the ancients weren't as wise as they made themselves out to be."

With a movement that Wyli couldn't even see, the man flew forward and brought the heel of his foot into Wyli's forehead, knocking her backwards and down to the ground.

"No wonder you wanted to protect her."

* * *

Timothy clambered to the top of the rubble pile and looked down at the perfect circle of a crater in the center of the wreck (how _that _happened was beyond him). He looked down at just the right time to see a Mithra in black carrying a kid on his shoulder, move at a lighting speed to boot a wounded Mithra in the forehead. Timothy felt his hands clench up and he hopped to the downward slope of the debris pile and started descending.

"I'll claim both of you as my own." The man said and then looked up at Timothy, who slid down to the ground of the circle crater. He met his gaze and Timothy felt something creep though his mind…something almost horrific, but also angelic…the feeling was indescribable, looking at this man.

The Mithra on the ground shook a little as she rose up on one of her arms. She kept her head down and Timothy saw some blood drip from her face.

"Give her back." She said and reached out a bruised and battered arm to latch onto the man's leg. The man frowned and reared back to kick the girl in the shoulder, knocking her to the ground with a scream. Timothy furrowed his brow and started forward, footsteps crunching and splashing. He didn't know any of these people, but this man was obviously a bad guy and, as part of a do-gooder military, he had to help. Also, the feeling that he got from just being around the man, that indescribable _whoosh _of a feeling…he didn't like it, not one bit…add to that he had a unconscious child on his shoulder and…

"Sir." Timothy said, remembering protocol, "I'm going to have to ask you to put that young lady down." He reached a finger up out of the big poncho sleeve to point at the kid on the man's shoulder. The man looked over at his prisoner and then back at Timothy.

"You have no say over what I do, mortal man. I would have though that a few eons would have wiped humans from the face of the Vana d'iel…tsk…those ancients have too much to pay for now."

With that the man dove forward, still with the girl on his shoulder, over the Mithra on the ground and at Timothy. His foot came up in a slice of a kick and Timothy leapt backwards, barely avoiding the blow. He landed hard with his back on the pile of razor debris and quickly hopped back to his feet, ignoring the field of new cuts that had been poked into his flesh through the poncho. Timothy made fists and hopped at the man, the rain splashing off his arm as he threw a straight-arrow punch. The man slid to the side and brought up his foot again. Timothy saw it coming and bounded up off his feet, cart wheeling to his left and landing perfectly, amazed at himself for doing it. He skipped forward and swung out his leg, swinging wide and string, making contact with the man's ribs, just below the arm he had up and holding the child. He staggered a little and his grip on the kid loosened, giving Timothy a chance. As soon as he had followed through with his wide kick, Timothy switched feet and kicked out again.

The man must have seen it coming though and grabbed it with one hand, stopping the attack. He looked at Timothy, making eye contact again for just a fleeting second then pulled his leg backward and tossed Timothy to the ground a few feet behind him. He slid a few more inches then he would have liked and got much more glass and wood embedded in his hands, but not even a full minute later, Timothy was back on his feet and attacking the man's back with a heavy straight kick. Screw honor, he thought.

Then the man moved, but faster then Timothy could react and he felt his foot cannon into his stomach, knocking the air out of him. Another blow came to his side and almost made him fall, if it weren't for the kick on the other side. The pattern repeated, stomach, side and side, twice more. Somehow, Timothy again amazed at himself, he was still standing. He braced himself for another barrage, but it didn't come, instead, the man appeared in front of Timothy, blurring into place like a ray of light stopping against a mirror. The man tossed a fist at him, as fast as he was before, but Timothy saw it coming. How, he didn't know, but he knew it was coming. So, in a single movement, Timothy weaved to the right and drove a knee into the man's side, hard enough for him to cough and stagger, dropping the girl to the ground. Timothy ignored the child and hit the man again with a lash to the side and then to the stomach. The man fell to his knees and uttered angry nothings, just barely audible.

Timothy smiled, "I'm just better then you." He looked away from the man and went to tend to the girl. He rolled her over onto her back and listened for breath. Once he confirmed she was alive, he slipped off his poncho and covered her with it, the rain feeling cold against his back, burning every slash and slice.

"I won't lose to a _human_." The man said and Timothy saw him get to his feet. He frowned and went to stand up, when something warm touched his cheek. Timothy looked down and saw the girl looking up at him, her grey eyes shaking with confusion, or maybe pain—Timothy couldn't tell. The man growled and they both looked up at him.

The man took a step forward and there was a blinding white light, so dazzling that Timothy had to cover his eyes with the sleeve of his coat. He heard the man yell and then the sound of what had to be a million trees breaking at once, the sound of wood being demolished. The light vanished and where the man was standing was nothing now, but carven through the stacks of debris was a path, at least fifty feet back. Squinting to see at the end of the path, Timothy saw a flash of black vanish into the rainy sky.

Insane_, _Timothy thought. Somehow the man had been thrown fifty feet through solid piles of wood, glass and metal…and he lived. What Timothy had gotten into…he didn't know…at least the bad guy went away.

"Who are you?" A voice said and Timothy looked down at the girl, the rain rolling off the hood of the poncho and onto her cheeks, making it look like she was crying. Timothy sighed and took her hand caringly.

"My name is Timothy." He said, "And I'm here to help you….what's your name?"

"It's…its Shika." She bit her lip nervously and pointed at the girl behind him, "Is Wyli alive?"

Timothy let go of Shika and went to check if the Mithra was breathing, which she was, She seemed in bad condition, but with emergency care, she'd be fine.

"She's alive." Timothy said and turned to Shika to get his linkshell from his poncho. She watched him with a fixed gaze as he squeezed it on and talked into it.

"This is Timothy Wessin. I'm at sector A-12, repeat, Timothy Wessin at A-12." He looked at Shika and Wyli then nodded, taking Shika's shaky hand again.

"We have two survivors, both Mithran, dead center, need emergency med care."

This day had started out so normally for him, Timothy thought, how did he end up saving two people's live and sending a speed-freak fighter through fifty feet of rubble? And that flash? What the story was behind this airship and these two was something he couldn't _wait _to hear.

"Repeat." He said to the linkshell.

"Two survivors, both Mithran."


	7. Tomorrow

**Verité au Vie**

By Brian Conley

**Six **_Tomorrow

* * *

_

Beads of anxiety rolled across Timothy's worry lines as he fell into a chair and slapped his report onto the desk before him. He was pressured by the scene of two hapless survivors, both broken and bandaged from their trials, being carried swiftly by twelve hands each to the medical barrack. He thought of Shika, with her eyes cold grey and awash with unknown emotion—something not to be forgotten. Timothy knew just from her eyes that he was in deep with her and just treating this as routine wasn't a possibility. He also had to ask her about her would-be kidnapper and both his intentions and violent vanishing. More so, there was that _other _girl to consider, that teenager. She had been badly shattered, much worse than Shika, and had been personally attacked by the man in black.

Sixteen hurried minutes passed and with a gnawed lip, Timothy finished his report. He signed it, dated it and hurriedly jumped up from his seat to slap it down on his CO's desk, gone before she even had a chance look read word one.

****

In the medical barracks, Timothy planted himself right outside the operating room, sitting with his hands nervously wrapped around each other between his knees, bobbing nervous. All he could think of was Shika's eyes staring up at him and the emotion they contained. Never, in his entire life, had he gotten so attached so fully to someone then that child and he had only talked to her for a few minutes. It was like he had known her his entire life; thinking about her he got the same kind of connection he got when he thought about his sister: warm feelings of comfort that she had always been with him.

Two hours ticked by before the doors opened and two gurneys rolled out, clattering down the nearby hallway, clicking their wheels over the hardwood floors. Timothy took a half-step to follow, interrupted by the head MO. She ran her hand through her hair and smiled softly.

"How are they?" Timothy asked.

"You must be the one who found them." The MO replied, "Wessin, right?"

"Yes, yes." Timothy answered, knowing that he was coming off as rude but didn't care. The MO huffed half a laugh and patted Timothy on his shoulder.

"Both of them are fine and will make full recoveries." She assured.

Timothy's lung relaxed into a long exhale, one so deep it felt like it was the first he had taken in days.

"The little girl came out with only a broken arm and a mild concussion…" The MO continued, "But the teenager was much worse. Both legs were fractured, as was her left arm. She has countless cuts and bruises and a flat-out broken shoulder bone. We had to take the time to carefully set all the bones then use small doses of high-caliber curative spells to make sure they would heal correctly."

"Can I see them?" Timothy asked.

"The teenager is still highly sedated, but the kid should be awake. You're free to visit, but keep it calm, okay?"

"Thank you." Timothy said, laughing a bit with her, "thank you very much."

"No problem." The doctor said and smiled.

Timothy thanked her again and turned trail the gurneys, following signs to the rehab rooms. The hospital wasn't a very big building, larger than most in Windurst. Timothy came across the first rehab room, the door slightly ajar. With a breath, he pushed the door in and stepped inside. Cabinets lined the walls next to the door and on the far end of the room were two beds, each across from each other, nestled in the corners, under windows that tapped with rain. In the left bed was the little girl, Shika, lying under a dull-white blanket with her arm over her belly, locked in a white plaster cast. Wrapped around her head were two strips of bandages, neatly affixed together. She had her eyes open and looking up out the window, her expression blank. She didn't even move to look at Timothy as he approached.

"Hi." He said quietly, almost under his breath.

"Hi." She said, not looking from the window.

"How are you feeling?"

"I don't know how to tell you." She said bluntly with a flat tone. Timothy looked at her for second then turned to go get a chair from the front of the room and sit it next to the bed.

Timothy took a moment to figure how to continue the conversation.

"Can…" He paused, "Can I guess what you're feeling?"

"What's 'guess'?" Shika said, turning away from the window to look at Timothy, her bandages rubbing softly on the pillow.

"You don't know what 'guess' means?"

Shika shook her head, "No…Wyli never told me."

"Wyli?" Thinking quickly, Timothy put two and two together, then thumbed behind him.

"Is that Wyli? The girl that was with you?"

Shika sat up on her good elbow to look at Wyli.

"Recovering." Timothy said, "She broke a lot of bones."

"…bones?"

Shika put on confusion, missing every other word in Timothy's sentence.

"You don't know what bones are?"

Shika passed a hurt look and faded it quickly to an expression that was a frown, but with her icy eyes melting in a way Timothy had never seen before. Exhaustion, anger, sorrow—it was a cavalcade of emotion, at least, that was the best way Timothy could word it to understand. He darted at his lips nervously and biting his tongue in between. His next question was important, but he had to construct it carefully, lest he hurt Shika further.

"Shika." He started. She piqued at her name.

"What _do _you know?" Timothy made fists nervously. She was quiet for a while before answering, at least five minutes of silence passed.

"I know…I know that that's rain outside…and that I'm _alive_ and you're _alive_ and Wyli's _alive_…and…and…and I know what _small_ is and what a ponytail is…" She trailed off, her mouth forming another dissatisfied frown. Timothy sat quiet for another few minutes, leaning back in his chair watching Shika blink and breath as she looked out the window. She really _didn't _know anything.

Timothy leaned forward. He slowly took Shika's arm in his hands and she turned to look at him, one eyebrow climbing curiously.

He squeezed her arm lightly, her smooth skin imprinting under his fingers.

"Do you feel that? That hard part in the center of your arm is your _bone_. It makes your arm your arm."

"Does everybody have them?" She asked.

"Yes." Timothy let go of Shika's arm and leaned back in his chair. He pointed at her cast, "You broke the bone in your left arm."

Shika looked down at the cast. She reached up her good arm and tapped at it with her fingertips.

"I see." She said, her voice suddenly sated with an answer to a question Timothy guessed she had had since she woke up. She looked for a bit more at her cast then up at Timothy, "So, Wyli broke a lot of her bones?"

"Yeah, her arm, like you, and her legs and right shoulder." Timothy leaned forward and poked Shika lightly in the corresponding places, making her smile.

"When will her bones…go back?"

"In a while. When you hurt your body, you have to give it time to get better."

"Hurt?"

Timothy licked his lips nervously again. This was a lofty task, explaining the concept of 'pain' and 'hurt' to someone who had to have bones explained to her. Knowing such things was something he kind of took for granted. He huffed and rapped his fingers across his leg. Suddenly a idea came to him and he smiled, reached out and pinched Shika's shoulder, just lightly. She jumped at it and scowled.

"You feel that?" Timothy explained, "That _sharp _kind of feeling?"

Shika nodded, frowning.

"That's _pain_….pain and hurt are the same thing, basically. I mean, that's just a _little _pain…but you get the picture."

A look of understanding crystallized her expression and excitedly she spoke up.

"I know what pain is!" She said, "Wyli explained it to me before and…and I felt it when that ship me and Wyli were on was on was crashing. I felt that sharp feeling and there was something…something from my head…"

"That was probably blood." Timothy said, thinking out loud. He hadn't meant to actually _speak _his observation, but there it was. He saw Shika about to ask about it, but he beat her to it.

"Blood is in all of us. It's what makes us _live_. It's goes through every part of your body…"

Timothy rolled his eyes. After this, he was going to the Military Library and reading every damn biology book on the shelves.

"Look." He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and showed Shika his wrist, a few light blue veins visible, "That blue is _blood_. Without it, we'd be dead."

"Why?"

Timothy sighed and then laughed. He leaned back in his chair.

"I'm going to tell you the truth, Shika. I don't know how to explain it."

Shika nodded. Timothy put his palms together and smiled. This poor girl who knows nothing and Timothy still had nagging questions, mostly about her circumstance. Now it seemed all those questions were too much for her, especially now.

The doors at the front of the room opened and a nurse came in, holding covered tray of food and a few assorted medical tools. She walked to the end of Shika's bed and put the tray down on the end table. She smiled and looked up at Timothy.

"I have some checking-up to do on the young lady here, so…"

"I gotcha." Timothy stood up and looked at Shika once more, "I'll come back later to talk some more, ok?"

Shika nodded and bit her lip, "Ok."

Timothy smiled again and excused himself from the room, waving to Shika with his fingertips and grinning at her lazy return salutation.

****

Timothy stood for a long while in the lobby, leaning up against a tiny window near the front doors. He wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do next. Technically, he had the rest of the day off, so he could go home, but that wouldn't feel right, considering Shika was all alone in that room (Wyli wouldn't be doing much talking for at least a day). He could go walking around, but he was tired and again, leaving Shika just didn't feel right. So, he sat and looked out the window at the heavy rain, his forehead pressed up against the glass. He tried to clear his mind, to just think about something _other _than Shika, just to relax, but he couldn't. For some reason, whether it be that she didn't _know _anything or that she was just a kid, he felt attached to her. Her injuries weren't all that bad, she'd probably be discharged soon, but to where and to who? Wyli was still incapacitated and would be for a while. That brought up another question that Timothy wanted to ask Shika: what was Wyli to her? A sister? A friend? And why were they flying and what was on Kazham? Also, who was that guy in black? All of it was a mystery and it was killing Timothy that he had to wait to start to solve it. He drummed his fingers on the window and sighed. What was he to do _now_?

A idea came to him; a ray of sun through the clouds of his thoughts. He stood up straight and smiled. He thought it through and then shouldered though the doors and broke into a run. He ran through the rain, making record time as he skipped over puddles, skidded around corners and barely avoiding falling into the water as he clopped across wooden bridges. Before he even knew it, he was at the CO Barracks. He crashed through the doors, leaving them wide open as he hurriedly made his way to his CO's office, gathering the stares of all the Mithra sitting at their desks along the way. His CO was there, thankfully, and he slammed his hand down on her desk, getting her attention from whatever she was writing.

"I…want…" He started, but lungs hungered and stopped him short. The CO put her pencil down and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Mister Wessin?" She said, not bothering to hold back her amusement. Timothy leaned over, putting one hand on a knee and holding up his index finger with the other. His lungs were burning—he had never run that fast and long in his entire life before.

"I want Military custody of the child Mithran survivor." He puffed once he had enough air in him.

The amusement on the CO's face turned to iron.

"Why?"

Timothy stood straight and put his arms at his side.

"Because she has no one else. As long as the teenage survivor is recovering, that is. I have plenty of extra room in my domicile and she wouldn't be a bother."

The CO looked Timothy up and down and though for a minute or two. She reached down and shuffled through one of her drawers and came up with his report.

"In this…" She said, "You stated that a 'man in black' was after the girl. You also said that he was 'very fast' and that 'you had to rescue that child from his grasp'. I'm not going to even go into the part about the paranormal 'white flash' and 'knocking him back approximately fifty feet'." She put the paper report down on the desk, "Tell me, what if this man in black returns for his prey?"

"Then I'll protect her! I also live close to these offices. If someone came to attack or kidnap her, he'll have me and the army down his throat."

Timothy growled a little and leaned down over the CO's desk, putting his palms flat on the surface.

"Please, Ma'am. What else is there to do with her? She doesn't know where she comes from, so, until her teenage companion wakes up to a conscious state, we won't know who to contact-"

"She's a little Mithran girl, Wessin." The CO interrupted, "What about decency? Different races, different genders…I just don't know."

Still leaning over the desk, Timothy lowered his head and clenched his jaw tight. He felt his hands roll into fists on the desk, against his conscious will. When he had thought up this impromptu custody idea back in the hospital, he hadn't taken rejection into it. For some bizarre reason, he had thought that his CO would just _agree _and things would just go smoothly.

"She's twelve." Timothy said, guessing Shika's age and stating it as fact. He didn't ask her directly how old she was, but she looked twelve, so it was ok.

"She's old enough to dress, wash and all those daily tasks by herself. She just needs someone to watch over her, to _be _with her." Timothy knew that all of that was almost all fabrication, Shika knew hardly anything about her own body, let alone about day-to-day living. But, Timothy was willing to lie to get custody of her—he could teach her all about the world once he did.

"And you're willing to take on this 'big brother' role?" The CO said, crossing her arms, "Also, you're willing to bear whatever stigmas you might get branded with from your neighbors?"

"I am. That is, when she is discharged from the hospital and only until her teenage friend is conscious and active enough to take my steed. I have the money for it and she'll be safe and I _promise _to make sure things stay 'decent' and-"

The CO raised her hand, palm flat out to Timothy, cutting him off mid-sentence. He scrunched her mouth to one side of her face and tilted her head a little to the left in thought. After a few minutes passed, she sighed heavily and leaned forward in her seat, making Timothy move back to standing straight.

"Fine." She said, "But _only _until we get this mess straightened out and her companion is awake."

"Thank you, _thank you_." Timothy said and saluted. The CO weakly saluted him back and then pointed.

"Don't do anything stupid, Wessin. I like you, you're a good soldier and I respect your efforts here. Don't do anything to make me regret that."

"I won't. I promise." Timothy said and saluted again before leaving, his grin evoking a murmur from the Mithra at their desks outside of the CO's office. He grinned it at a couple of them and walked out with a small air of hope: hope that Shika would learn quickly, hope that the broken-bodied Wyli would recover soon and hope that this little mysterious chapter of his life would soon come to a fulfilling conclusion. Of course, there was a lot to do, like finding out when Shika was going to discharged, getting the extra bunk in his room all set and what was going to be a mountain of paperwork—all of that alongside teaching Shika what he could.

But as he walked down the roads, the rain rolling off of his shoulders, he didn't think about all that. He was thinking about his new kid sister—and why he felt that way about Shika. He hadn't know her for that long _technically_, but he felt, somewhere deep within his mortal soul, that he had known her for years upon years. Maybe it was because she didn't know anything, or that he had rescued her from death…Aylia once told him that she had read somewhere that the rescuer and rescued of a life-threatening scenario were bonded together on some invisible emotional wavelength. Timothy wondered if that could possibly be it…the mind _did _work in mysterious ways and the idea of two people being bonded because they both almost died together didn't seem that far out of the realm of possibility. Though, what Timothy was feeling was seemed much deeper than that. He shrugged to himself. One of his bad habits was over thinking things until they were nothing but a giant twine ball of a idea, impossible to unravel and a heavy load at that. He had to relax and prioritize.

First things first: get to the hospital and work out what had to be worked out there. Then, it was off to home to set up living arrangements for two and then most likely ordering something to eat. He had had a big lunch (fifty kabobs) but was hungry now…what time was it? Almost two? A good a time as any to get some dinner…but first, Shika. With his hands in his pockets he picked up his pace and made good time walking swiftly to the hospital. He pushed through the double doors and shook his hair off as he stepped inside. He brushed them away and started towards Shika's room. His socks were just used sponges around his feet and left tiny puddles behind him. He hated being wet, mostly because all the clothes he had weren't meant for such extreme moisture and clung to him like a second skin. With every soggy step he grimaced a little bit, hating the feeling and hating that he was leaving a snail-trail of water behind him, something for some poor low-rank to clean up later.

As he approached Shika's room he was greeted by a nurse exiting from it, the same one who had shooed him out before…not even ten minutes ago. Timothy saw her and realized that he must have made really good time with his trip to the Military Offices. The nurse looked him up and down and put on a smile of politeness and amusement at his wetness, her hands folded together in front of her.

"Can I help you, sir?" She said.

"Can I see Shika?"

The nurse followed the point then shook her head, still smiling.

"She just fell asleep, sorry. I changed her bandages and gave her some anesthetic because she said she her head still hurt."

Timothy nodded. He was glad that she understood pain enough to communicate it to others. It seemed like the first step to learning fully about the world.

"Ok, well…" Timothy snapped his fingers, "Oh, um…when do you expect her to be discharged?"

"Well, um…her concussion is mild, so…I'd say another day or two and she can leave, if she has a place to go."

"She does." Timothy said with a small hint of pride, "I'm her legal caretaker, that is, until the other Mithra in there is up and at 'em."

"Oh." The nurse looked surprised and Timothy rolled her eyes at her. He had been expecting this kind of reaction.

"Well…" She continued, "That's good." She tried to sound sincere, but Timothy could easily see the skepticism she was masking, "Do you want me to get you the release forms?"

"That'll be great, thanks." Timothy said, smiling. The nurse nodded and ducked away to go retrieve the papers, probably a lot of them, that would legalize and finalize Timothy's temporary custody of Shika.

_Dear Aylia, _Timothy thought, starting another mental letter on a whim, _I'm babysitting now. And not just that: my child charge is completely oblivious to common, day-to-day knowledge. Heh, it's funny. I joined the army to save lives and help people, not teach the ways of the world to kids caught in airship crashes…wait, aren't those one in the same thing? Children are people too…even if they are a little Mithran girl who know nothing. No…but seriously, this kid feels different…by that I mean that she feels like (and take no offense) she's a sister to me. A Mithran, kid sister to me. That's just the kind of connection I have with her. I guess that's why I have this insatiable need to care for her…and to teach her… _

Timothy peered through the small one-foot window in the door and saw the snoozing Shika, parallel to the in-traction Wyli. He chuckled to himself and exhaled loudly, turning away from the window and leaning against the wall next to the door. He ran his hand over his face flashes of Aylia shot through his mind in a familiar burst of homesickness.

"Aylia…" He said, "What kind of mess is your brother getting himself into?"

He heard Aylia laughing at him, some kind of distant memory applying itself to the current situation.

"I only hope that I can laugh at this someday…" Timothy said.

"I can only hope."


End file.
